


Masquerade

by AnonEhouse



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gets Gory in Chapter 23, Identity Porn, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-02
Updated: 2013-02-24
Packaged: 2017-11-17 14:41:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 34
Words: 51,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/552683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnonEhouse/pseuds/AnonEhouse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Preserum Steve (I'm going with the comics version, thin/sickly/tall) meets pre-arc reactor Tony (I'm going with the movie version-I love puppydog brown eyes).</p>
<p>They don't quite admit falling in love with this other flawed person who just seems to fit so well... but they don't quite deny it. </p>
<p>When Iron Man and Captain America meet, they fight the attraction because HEY, I've GOT a boyfriend... but... I like you, too. Things get incredibly complicated, but it all works out in the end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [假面（A Translation of "Masquerade" by AnonEhouse）](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8110366) by [micaryn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/micaryn/pseuds/micaryn)



> Chinese translation is also at these two sites which are free, but require registration:  
> Mtslash (an archive for all kinds of movie/tv slash fics)  
> & HailStony (an archive for Stony only).
> 
> http://www.mtslash.org/thread-212591-1-1.html  
> http://www.hailstony.com/thread-4118-1-1.html  
> 
> 
> Chapter 23 contains gory scenes- they volunteered for it, so I don't think graphic violence applies. It's like a horror movie, icky but I don't really feel sorry for them.

(If you are reading this on any PAY site this is a STOLEN WORK, the author has NOT Given Permission for it to be here. If you're paying to read it, you're being cheated too because you can read it on Archiveofourown for FREE.)

From Tony's point of view the charity banquet had been a success. He woke up next to a hot blond, even if the guy did refuse to kiss him.

From Steve's point of view the charity banquet had been a disaster. Sure, talking to Tony Stark had been great. The man was witty, friendly, and a technological genius. When Steve had mentioned Rogersmed's interest in leasing StarkTech's diagnostics for their clinics, he'd pulled out a StarkPad and begun custom designing one as Steve described what they needed it to do. 

It had been fascinating, watching something new and brilliant being created right before his eyes, while Tony (please, Mr. Stark was my dad) had talked a mile a minute, both hands moving nearly as fast, grinning and occasionally looking straight at Steve with those really nice, big brown eyes. It was flattering having someone appreciating his input, not glancing around as if to say 'this shrimp can't be the founder and driving force behind a Fortune 500 corporation'. But Steve should have taken more time to note that while he sipped club soda, Tony had been knocking back the booze like water.

By the time the banquet was over he realized that Tony was three sheets to the wind, and absolutely in no condition to be left alone. Sure, Stark's bodyguards and chauffeur would take him home, but would they stay the night to make sure he didn't aspirate his own vomit? So when Tony grinned crookedly at him and invited him to come 'see his gadgets', he'd agreed. It wasn't as if he was in the closet, and he doubted one skinny blond even rated a ping on Stark Industries 'Tony Oh No' radar. The man was constantly in the news, about half and half divided between his genius and his idiocy. You had to be something really special before going home with Tony Stark got you in the headlines. Steve was just another skinny kid from Brooklyn.

Tony had leaned against him in the limo, all warm and cuddly, but not handsy, which was nice. Steve always felt the cold and Tony put out BTUs like a space heater. The butler met them at the door of the mansion, and helped-- well, really did most of it-- Steve get Tony up to his bedroom and then discreetly disappeared.

Steve had made sure Tony drank a lot of water and took off anything that could impede circulation, falling back into the old habits he'd learned while dealing with his father. Say this much for Tony, he was an amiable drunk, not a pugnacious bastard like Steve's dad had been. He apparently loved to cuddle, whining when Steve tried to pull away. 

Finally Steve had given up, stripped down to his briefs and slid under the covers with Tony. A couple pats on the back, a scratchy goatee rub against his chest, and a long, boozy exhalation later, Tony was out for the count. Steve had shrugged and let himself doze off. In for a penny, in for a pound.

***

"Well, hello, gorgeous."

Steve opened his eyes and frowned. Tony's bedhead was truly impressive, especially from up close, with Tony leaning on an elbow right beside him. "Do you even remember my name?"

"Sure! Um... Stefan..." 

"Steve."

"Yeah, Steve. So, you know, you're here and I'm here and I figure you wouldn't be here if you were really hating the idea." 

Steve ran his hand through his hair. "I brought you home and stayed with you because I'm a responsible adult."

"Ouch," Tony said. "So, is that a no?"

"It should be." Steve tossed the covers back and got up. His very expensive suit had been designed to hide flaws, but he wasn't ashamed of himself. He did the best he could with what he'd been given in the genetic lottery. So he didn't have Tony Stark's broad shoulders and arms like a blacksmith. So what. At least he was taller than Tony. More than he'd thought before he saw the special lifts in Tony's shoes. 

Tony whistled. "You have amazing bone structure." But he wasn't looking at Steve's face. 

Steve felt himself flush. Yeah, he wakes up like a giant, but let's face it, most of the people who've wanted him have looked at the rest of him first and treated him like a china doll. He's no one's toy. "You are very rude, Tony." That got him another grin.

"Yeah, but y'know, you still haven't given me an answer."

"As a responsible adult, I don't have sex with people I don't know."

"I have condoms! Any color and flavor you want."

"Accidents happen." Steve was tempted, but no, Tony was cute, but definitely trouble. Steve should say something polite, get his clothes and leave. In a minute. Tony was _awfully_ cute and Steve could _look_ , couldn't he?

"You're no fun, you know that?" Tony sat up, opened the drawer of the bedside table and rummaged. "Here, if you're worried about the medical aspect, try this baby." He pressed a finger against the small device he pulled out of the drawer, and then handed it to Steve, while he made an altogether too obvious a display of sucking a tiny drop of blood off his finger. 

Steve couldn't resist looking at the gadget. There was a display screen that scrolled, showing all the tests it had done, declaring the sample free of all STDs. "This is... amazing."

"Yeah, legal won't let us market it yet. Have to go through testing and approval, yadda yadda. Looking for a reputable outside company to help with that, actually."

"So that's why you were so interested in me." Steve was a little disappointed. "And why you had that diagnostic design ready to go."

"No. Actually... I was told to stay away from you. My company doesn't trust me to be diplomatic." Tony pouted, actually pouted. "But... hey... I have a thing for tall, smart blonds."

Steve stood there and considered his options. Really. For several whole seconds. Then he pressed his finger against the device and watched it go through another set of readings. "Well, what do you know, I'm clean, too." He handed the device back to Tony and smiled.


	2. Chapter 2

Tony liked kissing, I mean, really, like kissing wasn't just an appetizer, but the whole point of things. Steve was a bit embarrassed to realize that he'd taken the press's view of Tony Stark, 'wham, bam, thank you, ma'am/man' for reality. Apparently when you were in Tony's bed he didn't believe in shortcuts. There was a _lot_ of tongue- and wow, did he do tongue-stretching exercises? because it felt like he was looking for Steve's tonsils (a lost cause, they'd had to go when he was a kid, along with his appendix and adenoids), and then a lot of scratchy goatee rubbing over his chest as Tony experimented with nipple sucking, which really didn't do much for Steve, and sharp nips against his abdomen which definitely _did_.

Finally Steve had to push Tony away.

"You all right, there, Steve?" Tony asked. He was grinning, flushed and bright-eyed, with his hands, nice, firm, callused hands, rubbing circles on Steve's thighs. "Not too much for you, am I?"

Steve smiled ruefully. "Need... to catch my breath." He sighed. "I need my inhaler."

"Right." Tony got out of bed and went to Steve's neat pile of clothing, apparently neither embarrassed nor greatly inconvenienced by his erection. "Trousers or jacket?"

"Jacket." Steve watched Tony, waiting for his reaction, sometimes people were totally turned off by Steve's asthma, which didn't seem the case here, sometimes they wanted to bubblewrap him, sometimes they thought of it as a breathplay kink, which really, really made Steve feel weird. "Here." Tony handed him the bronchodilator and watched as he used it. "One of your products?"

Steve nodded and waited for the medication to take full effect. Tony sounded curious, but not morbidly so. "So," Tony said after Steve's breathing normalized, "this is new for me. What are the problem areas? I mean, obviously, you're the expert here, so teach me." Tony continued looking at Steve, interested and not in the slightest put off.

"Well..." Steve said, "some environmental factors set me off, like mice, mold and latex."

"Noted. Non-latex condoms, they're a thing. We'll read the labels." Tony's hands were back on Steve's thighs, just resting there, warm and... you know... nice. "Kissing is bad?"

"No! Kissing is fine, just... I should have taken my meds first. Exercise... physical pressure on my chest." Steve frowned. "This actually, really, sucks."

Tony grinned. "Hey! There's a thought. Does being sucked work for you?"

"Really? You want... I mean... I don't know that I could return the favor right now." Maybe if he wasn't all tense, but he is, damn it.

"Yeah, I want." 

And then there was goatee against his inner thigh and that was... an interesting place to have beard burn, and Steve's hands were in Tony's hair, and it was good. It was really. Amazingly good. Yes. Tony sucked cock with fierce enthusiasm, his hands digging into Steve's waist with no concern for bruising, none of the hesitance, none of the 'porcelain doll' treatment Steve hated, just messy, noisy motion and friction. When Steve tugged at his hair to warn him that he was close, Tony pulled back with a last, filthy tongue-swirl, only to catch a face full of come.

"Oh!" Steve had an instant to consider apologizing before Tony crawled over him, guided Steve's hands to his cock, and yelled something unintelligible as he came, and then slid down onto the bed beside Steve.

"MMm..." Tony flung out an arm and patted Steve on the shoulder. "Thanks." And then he turned on his side, cuddled his head against Steve's chest and fell asleep, all hot, damp, smelly, heavy and...nice.

Steve patted him on the back. "Yeah. Thanks." Come to think of it, he wouldn't mind an extra forty winks himself.

***

Steve wasn't really sure how all this happened. One day all he knew about Tony Stark was the stuff in the tabloids, and the next he's sharing a bed with that madman several times a week, whenever they can synchronize time away from their respective companies. The sex is great. Absolutely great. Steve's not sure if he's building up stamina, or if he's becoming less tense, or what, but he's done things with Tony that he would have expected to damn near kill him and he's been fine.

The bad part about spending so much time with Tony is that he's seeing under the flash and 'don't care' and becoming fond... more than fond... of the man at the same time he's discovering just how little regard Tony has for his own life. He drives too fast, he drinks too much (and often at the same time), and Steve is fairly sure the only reason he hadn't picked up an STD was pure dumb luck. Sure, he uses condoms with Steve, but Steve suspects that's a courtesy easily waived if anyone asked to bareback. He _thinks_ that he's Tony's only sex-partner at the moment, but what Tony does when he's drunk... well... if Tony doesn't remember, anything could happen.

Tony slipped away from his bodyguards and chauffeur one weekend and turned up outside Steve's apartment with a bouquet of green stuff with tiny white flowers, all wrapped up in purple tissue paper. "STEVE!" Tony exclaimed when he opened the door. "LOOK! STEVIA!" he said as he shoved the bouquet into Steve's arms. And then he did some sort of dance step sidestepping around Steve and into his living room and onto his couch. "I like this couch. Let's christen it!"

"Sure," Steve said, because experience told him agreement was better than working Tony up into full pout. "I'll just put these flowers in water. I'll be right back." He went into the kitchen, put the bouquet into a pot (it's not like people were in the habit of giving him flowers, so he didn't have a vase) and sniffed it. Smelled a bit like candy. Then he washed up his dinner dishes, checked the pantry, made a shopping list and rearranged the refrigerator, so the older produce was in the front. By the time he washed and dried his hands for the last time, Tony was stretched out on the couch, sound asleep.

He fished Tony's phone out of his back pocket, which got him a few mutters, and wriggles, but nothing approaching a conscious reaction. Tony's people were relieved to know they could stop looking for him, but Steve wasn't relieved. Not at all. Damn it. Tony had bodyguards for a _reason_. Tony's company made things people felt strongly about- the kind of strong feelings that got you knifed in alleys-, Tony was totally unable to blend into the biggest crowd, Tony's strut and brag was enough to irritate a saint, and by God, if anyone wanted to kidnap for money, could there be a bigger payoff than his ransom? He sat down next to Tony, and stroked his hair.

"What's wrong with you?"


	3. Chapter 3

Steve didn't have to stay on the couch with Tony, by now he knew the various degrees of Tony intoxication, and judged this was nowhere near dangerous levels. He could have got up and gone to bed; Tony would either come in and steal covers during the night or he'd sleep until morning and talk Steve into making breakfast. This wasn't the first time Tony had showed up unexpectedly- it was just the first time he'd ditched his people to do it. Normally he had his chauffeur drop him off, and the bodyguards hung around the building watching all the exits and entrances. They were paid well enough to take bullets for Tony, so being bored all night long was nothing to them.

It was a puzzle, and not a pleasant one. Maybe something upsetting had happened? Not that Tony would ever tell him, any more than Steve would whine about problems to Tony. They'd had entirely different childhoods, but one lesson they both learned was not to ever admit vulnerability. To anyone, but most of all, to yourself. Steve had once had a friend who saw through his mask, knew when he was hurting, the really bad pain that doesn't come from broken bones or a sickly body. Bucky would have sat with him when he was hurting. He would have called him stupid, maybe, for letting people get to him, but he would have stayed. Steve would like to be that good a friend to Tony. At least he could stay with him.

***

It was a good couch, but not as good as his specially made orthopedic bed. Steve woke up with a stiff neck and sore shoulders. He closed his eyes and gingerly began massaging his neck. After a minute or so he felt Tony's warm hands sliding up his back. He opened his eyes to see Tony looking up at him, all warm, ruffled, and sleep-softened. "Got a crick in my neck," Steve explained.

"Mmm... lemme see," Tony muttered in his pre-caffeine, preverbal state, while working his way up to a sitting position. His hair was sticking up every which way and he fumbled a bit before he found his balance. It was like watching evolution in action, amoeba to Cro-magnon. Tony yawned and kissed the back of Steve's neck, then he began working the muscles loose, pressing firmly. It hurt at first, then warmth flowed back and Steve sighed in relief.

"I have magic fingers," Tony said smugly. "Everyone says so."

"You remind me of Bucky." Steve's tongue apparently had loosened along with his neck. He never talked about Bucky. It smacked of self-pity and sympathy-seeking, things he really hated. He wasn't weak. He didn't need any of that.

"Bucky?" Tony asked. 

Great, now Tony was curious. He'd never let it go. Well... why not tell him? Maybe it would even help. "He was my best friend."

"Was?"

"He died of AIDS." The warm hands paused for a second, and then resumed rubbing. "Even before he knew he was infected, he was careful with me. He never risked my life. Only his own. He was always having too much fun, moving too fast, to take care of himself."

Tony pulled back and shifted so they were facing each other. "And I remind you of him that way?"

Steve shrugged, the motion easy now. "I like you, Tony. I like you a lot. It hurts me to see you doing stupid things like going around drunk on your own."

"Hey, I have to slip the leash once in a while, or choke to death," Tony said defensively. "Obi's been pushing, the board always thinks I'm a screw-up, and I just wanted a break." He continued on, rambling so Steve can't get a word in without being rude. "Next week, I have to make nice in Vegas for another pointless award, gumball machine prize for SI making the best toys for Uncle Sam. Rhodey's gonna be there and, y'know, I love him like a brother, but he's all about avoiding fun and doing the right thing for the warm glow of right-thingness. If I'm lucky after that I get a few hours in Malibu to play with dad's flathead roadster before I'm off to Afghanistan for a demo. Dress sharp, act sassy, blow up some sand, smile at the brass. Hot, dull and did I say dull? But Obi's insisting I have to present it in person, which is ridiculous, my stuff speaks for itself."

"People like to see who they're relying on, Tony," Steve said, which felt wrong even as he said it. He always overcompensated when Tony mentioned Obi, trying to see things from Obi's point of view. He didn't like the man, didn't like the way he was always pushing into Tony's space, making Tony look and sound small next to him. Tony had a blind spot a mile wide when it came to Obi, the last connection Tony had to his family. Steve wasn't sure a creepy 'uncle' was an improvement over no family, but it was important to Tony, and he took any criticism of Obi as an attack.

"Yeah." Tony drew away from Steve. "Well, it's not as if I'm the one writing the contracts or assembling the product. It works, isn't that enough? They just want a show. Poke Tony Stark and see him dance. So, anyway, after I dazzle a few generals, I'm gonna cut loose for a while."

Steve couldn't help it, he frowned. "Don't you think you 'cut loose' enough?"

"What are you, my mother? No, strike that, mom never tried to tell me what to do."

"Maybe she _should have_ , Tony!" Steve said sharply.

Tony was on his feet in an instant. "You know what, Steve, I don't need this. Really, it's been great. Don't call me, I'll call you." Tony grabbed his cell phone from the coffee table in front of the couch. 

Steve scrambled to get up, but the momentary hesitation was all it took for Tony to be out the door and down the hallway to the emergency stairs. "TONY!" Steve ran after him, leaving his door open to try to catch him. He saw the self-closing door on the stairs sliding shut and knew he'd never be able to run down them. He went for the elevator. By the time he reached the lobby, Tony was nowhere in sight.

Steve felt bad about the quarrel. It was so stupid. He really hadn't said anything he hadn't hinted at before, but Tony was hungover and upset from being pressured, and he guessed it was just the last straw. Well, they'd argued before, and got over it. Give Tony a few days to cool down, and he'd be calling Steve pretending nothing had happened, and they'd be all right again.

***

Steve was at work a week later when his assistant drew him aside. "Mr. Rogers?"

"Yes, John, what is it?" Steve was impatient to return to work; his universal serum was coming along well. The test mice became immune to every disease he could throw at them. It also increased the fitness of all their organs and the size of muscles to a remarkable extent. The only glitch was that they soon wasted away. He suspected it was a result of runaway metabolism; they simply couldn't eat and digest enough to fuel their improved bodies.

"It's Mr. Stark, sir. He's on the news." 

Steve felt a line of icy-cold run down his spine. John wouldn't have such a grim expression if it was merely Tony making an ass of himself. "What happened?"

"There was an attack in Afghanistan. They aren't giving out details yet, but it sounds bad."

"I... see. Thank you, John." Steve went to the nearest computer and started opening news sites.


	4. Chapter 4

There wasn't much to find out, even after Steve went to Stark Industries in California in person. Obi's 'crocodile tear' act was so unconvincing Steve felt sick. This was the man Tony had looked to as a father. Once he realized Steve wasn't there to discuss marketing the diagnostic device Tony had created, but to ask how the search was going, Obi would only say that he trusted the military to do everything possible, but of course, we must be realistic.

Realistic. Steve left Obi's office... Tony's office... god, the man hadn't even waited for Tony's office chair to cool... and he just stood there, lost. 

"Sir? Are you all right?"

He looked up. It took him a moment to recognize her face from Tony's cellphone. Pepper. Tony had liked... Tony _likes_ her, says he relies on her. "Ms. Potts. I'm Steve Rogers."

"Oh. Oh, yes. Tony... he speaks about you a lot."

Steve was glad that she hadn't written Tony off, either. "He thinks the world of you." 

She blushed. "Thank you. Call me Pepper, please." 

Steve straightened his shoulders and looked around the office. People were glancing at them curiously. "Would you be willing to talk with me later, when you have time, Ms. Potts, I mean, Pepper? I just... it's hard... you know?"

Pepper smiled. "We can talk now. I... well, I'm still Mr. Stark's P.A. until otherwise notified, but... well, I have time."

"I know a good coffee shop nearby." Steve offered Pepper his arm. She accepted it without hesitation and they left SI together.

***

Pepper was very kind, and very intelligent. Steve could see why Tony was so fond of her. They lingered over coffee while she shared with him the few facts that hadn't been made public. "Tony's the only one missing." Pepper swirled the spoon in her cold coffee. "Obi thinks they took him because he wasn't in uniform. But they haven't made any ransom demands. He says that Tony must have died, and... they knew we wouldn't pay without proof he was alive."

"Mr. Stane doesn't know anything." Steve fought not to hate Obi, but it wasn't easy. Couldn't the man even leave Pepper some thin thread of hope? "There could be a lot of reasons why they haven't asked for ransom. He could have escaped, and be lying low somewhere, just waiting until it's safe to call for rescue."

"Yes. He could." Pepper smiled at Steve. "Rhodey saw him. In the attack, Tony was running for cover just before debris knocked Rhodey unconscious."

"Rhodey? Oh, yes. Tony told me Rhodey would be with him in Las Vegas for the awards. They went to Afghanistan together?"

"He's been Tony's liaison with the military for years. They've known each other since college. Rhodey's staying there to search for Tony." 

"I wish I could do something." Steve hated being helpless, being weak. Even if he could somehow pull strings to get over to Afghanistan, he'd just be in the way. 

"You can pray for Tony. That's all we can do." Pepper looked at Steve for a moment before taking a pad from her purse and writing a brief note. "Here's my number, and an email for Rhodey. He may not be able to reply right away, but he will, when he can. Rhodey's a good man."

Steve pocketed the slip of paper. "Thank you." They stood up together. "You're a good person too, Ms. Potts." He held out his hand. She laughed and shook hands with him. 

"I'm glad," she said softly, "I'm glad to have met you."

***

Steve didn't go to church as regularly as he ought, and perhaps his confessions were much further apart, and lacking certain details, than they should be, but it still gave him comfort to step into God's house. To kneel and bow his head, and ask God to find Tony wherever he was, and give him comfort. To give him strength. To give him hope.

***

Rhodey was very patient, but he couldn't tell Steve much, just 'we're still looking'. Steve returned to New York and kept working, smiled at people, and carried on. The media forgot about Tony once there was no more new and exciting footage. Once in a while Steve called Pepper. They didn't talk about Tony, because that felt like a wake, but they did talk about SI, about Pepper's so far successful efforts to keep Tony's Malibu mansion maintained and intact. Obi talked as if she was using it as an excuse to keep her job, oh, he said it with a laugh, she told Steve, but he knew that laugh.

"I know why you fight for that house," Steve told her. 

"Do you? I mean, Tony's got half a dozen mansions around the world."

"Yes, but he's told me about that one. He keeps the things he loves best there. His father's car, the robots he built at M.I.T., and the A.I. modeled after the butler who practically raised him." Steve could hear Pepper draw a ragged breath.

"Tony told you all that?"

"Not straight out like that, but yes. He says he's not a sentimental man."

Pepper laughed. "Stark men are made of iron- he says that's the family motto."

"We don't always live up to family mottos."

***


	5. Chapter 5

Steve didn't exactly think _If I were stronger, I could go look for Tony_ , but it was at the back of his mind. It was ridiculous. If he was built like a tank, he still wouldn't be in the military and wouldn't be allowed in an active war zone just to add another pair of eyes. They didn't need a well-intentioned civilian. They had highly trained people and high tech equipment- probably some of which were Tony's own designs. He wrestled with logic for a few days, and then he gave up and adjusted the serum, making a single, human-size, dose which he locked in the drug vault. He wasn't going to use it, of course not, but it felt like something he had to do.

The mice kept dying. Some of them lived longer than others, but he couldn't pin down whatever factor accounted for the difference. He'd figure it out sooner or later. As a sickly boy, he'd learned patience, jigsaw puzzles instead of pickup basketball games, novels in bed (he'd liked Max Brand westerns- so many of his heroes used their brains to overcome physical frailties) instead of midnight showings of Rocky Horror with friends all dressed up and acting silly, solitaire on a tray instead of bicycling around town. He learned the trick of not counting the minutes, not counting the pieces or the pages, just keep going. You keep going and trying and then you're pleasantly surprised when you put in the last few pieces or turn the last page to get to the happy ending.

Tony would be found. It's not as if he was someone like Steve who could be left behind at the gas station restroom when the rest of the school tour went on, no one realizing there was just that bit more elbow room on the bus because of that small Steve-sized gap in the seats. People _noticed_ Tony. Even if... even if he wasn't alive when they found him, they would find him and bring him home.

***

Work was a refuge; Steve had to concentrate on what he was doing, what he _could_ do, not worry about a situation he couldn't help. The serum was more than a breakthrough. If it could be made to work without the harmful side-effects, it could theoretically not only render the recipients immune to every germ-based disease but correct existing damage no matter what the cause, bringing the body to the absolute peak of physical condition. Autopsies on the mice had shown that the corrections remained intact despite the wasting away. Perhaps if he could isolate the skeletal musculature from the effects the energy demands would be less?

Maybe if he hadn't been working so hard, trying to distract himself, he would have noticed his assistant's increasingly erratic behavior sooner. John was young and given to fads, so he hadn't thought much of the shaven head and flaming red skull tattoo John was sporting one Monday. John's increasing clumsiness and carelessness were harder to overlook, but Steve put that down to his own state of mind creating workplace stress.

Then he went out to lunch and got halfway to the restaurant before he realized he'd left his other keychain with all the lab keys on the counter. He considered letting it go, just this once, but ingrained habits were hard to break. He'd just worry about it and not enjoy his meal. 

He didn't bother snapping on the main lights as he entered, striding quickly over to the counter and reaching for the keys without having to look. He always left them in the same place when he was working because the collection was heavy and dragged at his lab coat. His fingers closed on nothing. The lights came up, and he lifted his head, startled. "John? What are you..." Then he saw the drug cabinet open and the carton half-filled with bottles and vials. "Oh, John. Don't do this."

John's face was unnaturally flushed and his pupils were pinpoints, the skin around his eyes bruise-dark. He'd obviously already taken something. Steve wasn't sure what, the mice had never reacted like that. "This is worth a lot of money to the right people, Stevie."

"It's death if it's handled wrong, Smith." Steve saw his authority was a thin and laughable garment, torn by Smith's sneer.

"Do I look like I care? _I'll_ be living high." Smith grabbed the flash drives holding the experimental data, and tossed them into the box. Steve wasn't really worried about that. Tony had taught him some tricks of encoding. No one would get anything off those drives. Maybe his expression gave that away, because Smith lunged forward and grabbed Steve's left arm. "You know, I bet they'd pay even more to have you to tell them how to figure it out."

Steve didn't struggle; it would be pointless. Smith's hand went completely around Steve's upper arm, digging into the biceps so tightly his whole arm went numb. "Don't be crazy! You can't just kidnap me!" Steve looked into Smith's eyes and saw he would do it; the man really was insane. He flailed out with his right hand, hit the shelf inside the drug cabinet and felt his fingers close around a familiar syringe. He flicked off the safety cap and put the pressure injector against his chest. "You know what this is, Smith. Don't make me do it."

"The good stuff, huh? Gimme that!" Smith grabbed Steve's wrist. "Let go, or I'll break your arm!"

Even at the last, Steve hadn't really meant to do it, but the muscles spasmed in his hand and he felt the injection go in, straight into his heart. He screamed as white-hot agony burst from his chest outward. Steve convulsed, tearing himself loose from Smith to crouch on the floor, shaking all over.

"Well, fuck," Smith said. "I'm outta here." He picked up the carton and headed for the exit.

"NOoooo," Steve shouted. He couldn't let Smith go. People would die. Even if they corrected the serum, it wouldn't be used to cure, but to make monsters like Smith, human weapons, conscienceless killers. And it would be all Steve's fault if he couldn't... get up. He staggered, clutching at the counter, which crumbled under his grip, staggered and climbed to his feet. He tore at his clothes, too tight, choking him.

"SMITH!" Steve roared. He ran after his assistant, stumbling and off-balance at first, but finding his stride in seconds. Smith looked back for a second, and then kicked open the door into the emergency stairwell. Steve followed, too caught up in the chase for more than a fleeting moment of wondering why Smith was heading up to the roof. It was so easy, he was moving so fast, so smooth, it was like a dream. He caught up with Smith on the roof. Smith was at the edge, holding the box out in space.

"Put the carton down, John! You're sick, you need help!"

John sneered at him and shook the box. "I'll drop it if you come closer."

"I'll make more," Steve moved closer, feeling strong, feeling like he could pick John up and break him like a twig.

"You've forgot what's next to the building on this side." John's thin lips stretched out in grimace of perverted pleasure. "The fountain, Stevie. The one linked into the city's water supply. I don't know what a diluted dosage of this will do, but I bet it'll be interesting." He picked a couple tubes out of the box, seemingly at random, but Steve's eyes and mind were working sharper than ever, and he realized the two chemicals would combine explosively. 

Smith threw the vials just as Steve wrenched the round cover off a roof vent and held it up in front of himself. The explosion knocked him backwards. He regained his feet and saw Smith climbing down a fire escape and reaching back for the carton which he'd laid down on the roof. "NO!" Steve threw the cover, hitting the carton and driving it out of reach. Smith cursed and disappeared from sight. Steve ran to the fire escape and looked down. Smith was nowhere in sight. He must have jumped, and ducked between the buildings in the complex. Steve considered chasing him, but it was more important to get the drugs back under lock and key. Before... before he tried to find a cure for himself. The mice had lasted only a few hours. How long did he have?

Even knowing he was dying, Steve couldn't help smiling when he picked up the carton as easily as a box of tissues.


	6. Chapter 6

It had only been a few hours, but Steve had already broken open the vending machine in the corridor outside his lab- ripping the door off with his bare hands- and eaten everything, including stuff he'd always had to avoid because of allergies, allergies he no longer possessed. If he had more time he'd create a super-concentrated food, sucrose and protein-based probably would be best, which should slow down the deterioration, but he hadn't got more time. 

He took samples, he correlated changes, he tested the results of various drugs and he carefully recorded his decline.

Finally he gave up late into the night, early into the morning, it didn't matter, he'd graphed the curve and he wasn't going to make it. He locked away the formula and data in the more secure lab safe. Smith wouldn't be in any condition to break into that if he was feeling half as sick as Steve was. He was dizzy now, dizzy enough that passing out seemed like a good idea. He hooked himself up to monitoring equipment, using self-sticking electrodes and self-adjusting straps because fairly soon he was going to be too weak to tighten them as his muscle mass was eaten by the hollow raging hunger inside. He closed his eyes and got as comfortable as possible on the lightly padded examination table. 

He was so glad he'd made Pepper his heir. He trusted her to do what's best with the serum. She was strong. So strong. She'd know... he smiled and let himself sink into the mental state he taught himself as a child. He'd dream of being healthy. Of finding Tony and holding him, so warm, so good, just holding Tony as he fell asleep.

***

There was a click, and then the soft _shussh_ of the auto-watering system -Steve might have to use mice in his experiments, but he made sure they at least had access to fresh water and all the basic mousey amenities. He opened his eyes, turning to check the time. "Huh. I should be dead by now." He lay there and did a quick personal assessment - he was hungry, but he no longer felt as if hunger was the center of his existence. He glanced down at his arms. They were thin and wiry, but not shrunk down to tendon tightly wrapped over bone. "Well, something happened." 

He got up warily, trying not to dislodge any of the monitoring equipment. The dizziness was nearly gone. He was hungry and thirsty and there was a residual ache in his bones, but no worse than if he'd over-exerted himself. He checked the current readings. Stable, normal... better than normal... like the mice, he'd retained the healing of his weak heart and lungs. He'd have to check the rest; see if his allergies were gone, if he was now immune to disease. Later. Right now he was going to dig out some of the spare clothing he kept here in case of accidents, and get breakfast. A really big breakfast.

***

Surprisingly, he found the answer in the EEG readings. He'd fallen into theta state and within seconds his physical readings had leveled off. His ability to achieve theta at will had been studied by his doctors years ago. There had been concern that it indicated various brain abnormalities because while theta is seen normally in young children, in adults it can be a warning sign. After ruling out lesions, encephalopathy, deep midline disorders and hydrocephalus-- really, they'd been very thorough-- the consensus was that he simply had an instinctive ability to achieve a deep meditative state. He found creative ideas came easier to him while in theta, so he'd kept in practice with it.

Steve flexed his arms and considered. If he could change at will... he could be... for a while, he could be strong. It wasn't as important as being healthy, of course not. But... he could help people outside of his lab. He didn't want to be a freak, though, so he'd have to disguise himself somehow. And... well, he would not carry a gun, no, he didn't even have a permit, but a shield would be good. He didn't know how to make something like that... he could maybe cut down an old satellite dish... no, better still, he remembered Bucky had been in some reenactors' groups. They had crafters who Bucky swore could make armor and costumes more authentic and stronger than the real thing. He'd make up some sort of costume design, silly enough they wouldn't take it seriously, but he'd insist on it being strong enough for real combat. Yeah. 

Real combat. He'd need that if Smith hadn't died. Whatever he'd taken hadn't worked exactly the same as the serum did to Steve, maybe he survived.

***

The costume was indeed silly, but it definitely distracted from his features. The costume maker called it 'Captain America' which sounded good to Steve. He learned how to slip into the 'Captain' state of mind and bulk up in seconds. There were pockets hidden all over the costume which he filled with food concentrate in case a 'mission' ran longer than expected. Fortunately after the initial event he didn't use as much energy since he wasn't rebuilding everything, so he could hold out for a day if necessary before slipping back into his normal body.

***

Smith kept popping up, looking uglier and acting crazier each time. Steve never managed to catch him, but in the process of hunting him down he ran across other villains who needed stopping. And somehow he found that people were calling him a hero. Police smiled at him and listened to his orders. Politicians wanted to have their photos taken with him. It was so strange. He was Steve Rogers, the guy who got pushed to the back of the line and ignored. No one ignored Captain America. All his life he'd told himself that he didn't really care what other people thought of him, that what was inside a man counted more than anything else, but it sure was a lot easier when people just looked at you and gave you respect.

He handed over his latest catch to the authorities, and was about to look for a quiet place to theta his way back to Steve Rogers when he saw the wide-screen TV on display in a shop window. Newsflash. He always stopped for them, because sometimes it was something where Captain America could help. And then he saw Tony. Bruised, and weary, with his arm in a sling, but alive. Dear God, Tony was alive. Steve took in the sight until the clip ended. It said he was in California. Steve remembered the Malibu house, remembered Tony's cell number. God. He had to get back. Had to call Tony. He turned and ran, full speed past the astonished bystanders. He had to get home, get back to being Steve.

Dear God, Tony was alive.


	7. Chapter 7

Steve hated to stop long enough to theta down, but it wouldn't do for Captain America to let himself into Steve Rogers' apartment. The delay seemed terribly long, but when he slid to a stop in his living room the clock said it had been only five minutes. The news conference had been aired live. Tony was probably on his way to a bar- he always dazzled in public performances, but Steve knew putting on the 'Stark Act' took a lot out of him. 

Steve hit the speed dial for Tony before he realized that had been Tony's old number. It wouldn't still be good, would it? Even if the phone hadn't been blown up, it was lost in the desert. He canceled the call and got through to Pepper instead. "Ms. Potts! This is Steve, I need to talk to Tony, but I don't have his number."

"Steve! God, yes, talk to Tony. He's turning the company upside down, I don't know what he's thinking. I'll text you the number of his new phone. Talk him down if you can. I'm going to be busy doing damage control."

That was Tony. Gone for three months, and the minute he's back, he's off and running again. Steve hung up on Pepper and retrieved the text. Huh. He hadn't even told Pepper how glad he was that Tony was home safely. He'd call her back later, she said she was busy. The phone rang, or buzzed, or vibrated or... who knows what Tony's phones did. It kept going. If he was still Captain America his grip would have crushed his phone. Finally he heard, "Steve?"

"Tony! I just saw you! Are you all right?"

Tony laughed, a short, not really happy-sounding noise. "It's funny. You know, you're the first person to ask me that."

Steve didn't like the way Tony sounded. "Who's with you? Pepper and Rhodey, right? You're not alone, are you?"

"Rhodey... you know, he had to report in, but Pepper's... around... somewhere. I left Obi behind, but he'll catch up. He's not too happy with me at the moment."

"Obi." Steve didn't even try to disguise how he felt about him.

"Yeah, Obi. Why are you always down on Obi? You never even met him."

"I did, Tony. While you were gone. He... I don't think he really wanted you to come back." 

There was silence for a long moment, then Tony said, "Obi's here. I'll have to call you back."

"Tony!" Steve was too late, the connection was dead. He paced for a few minutes, then got out his suitcase and started packing.

***

Steve borrowed his neighbor's phone to call the lab and make arrangements for the maintenance people to care for the mice and look out after everything else. He always locked everything down before he put on his Captain America suit, and he'd worked alone ever since Smith's betrayal, so that sorted out the day to day. He could handle most of his business decisions by phone or email for a while. Rogersmed didn't need him as much as Tony did. He got on-line and booked the first direct flight to LAX he could get, and arranged for a rental car, in between going back and forth between the suitcase and various rooms. Packing the Captain America suit wasn't too difficult, but the shield was a nuisance- he wound up cutting and taping several cardboard boxes to fit around it. He hoped it didn't get lost en route, but he could hardly take it as a carry-on.

 

His phone rang while he was affixing name and address labels and writing the flight number on several sides of the shield box. He dropped the Sharpie and grabbed up the phone. "Tony?"

"Yeah. It's me." Tony sounded even more tired than he had half an hour ago. "So... yeah, the thing with Obi... it's the company, hell, it's more his than mine, if you go by how much time he's invested in it. So, you know, that's his focus. I've got some new ideas, but... it didn't seem the time to bring it up. Anyway... that's fine. I can handle Obi. So... umm... anything new happening with you?"

Steve opened his mouth and then shut it. If he ever told anyone about Captain America, it would be Tony, but not like this. "Nothing much. Caught Smith pilfering supplies and fired him. I've hit a snag with the serum research and put it on hold for a while. In fact, I'm pretty bored in New York at the moment. Does that invitation to visit Malibu still hold?"

Silence stretched on for so long Steve thought Tony had hung up. Then Tony said, "Ah. Well. I'd love to see you, but things... you know, I'm going to be busy. Restructuring the company. Doing... stuff."

"I'll get a hotel room, then," Steve said briskly. "I'm not just coming to visit you, Mr. Ego. I want to see Pepper, too."

"Oh, god, don't tell me the two of you bonded while I was gone."

"Ok, I won't tell you," Steve said, just to hear Tony laugh. "I'm coming, Tony, and you can't stop me. You know how stubborn I am."

"Yeah. Yeah, I know." Tony sounded fond. "Call Pepper when you get in."

"I will." Steve found himself smiling at the phone after the call ended.

***

Pepper met Steve at the airport. He had just chased around the conveyor belt to catch the shield box, which had been kicked around the corners enough to reveal glimpses of red and white, and turned to see her standing outside the claims area. "Pepper! How did you find me?" He wrestled the box and the suitcase, which he'd overpacked in a fit of 'can't take the time to decide', over to her and grinned like an idiot. 

She was smiling back just as widely. "Oh, you were easy! After years of tracking Tony down..." Her smile faltered for a moment and then brightened again. "You're straightforward, Steve. That's one of the things I love about you."

Steve laughed. "I've got to pick up my rental."

"Well, no, Tony cancelled it." Pepper shrugged. "I think he felt guilty about not letting you stay at his house, so he sent me and Happy to take you to the Presidential suite in the [Hotel Bel-Air.](http://www.fivestaralliance.com/luxury-hotels/los-angeles-ca/hotel-bel-air) We're to take care of you until he decides to emerge from his workshop." Pepper picked up the boxed shield and started walking, leaving Steve no option but to follow. "It'll be like waiting for the groundhog to see his shadow, I'm afraid."

"Presidential suite... in the Bel-Air." Steve shook his head. "Does Tony ever not over-do things?" He stopped when he saw Happy holding open the rear door of a Rolls-Royce Phantom. "Apparently not," he answered himself. 

***

The phone was ringing when the three of them walked into the suite. It took Steve a moment to locate it. He picked it up, expecting there to be some welcome message from the concierge- at this hotel, he half expected them to send up complimentary tickets to the symphony. "Hello? This is Steve Rogers in the Presidential Suite."

"Hi, Steve!" Tony said. "So, how was the flight? Weather looked good." 

Steve could hear background noises that sounded like machinery. Something more than Tony's pet helper-bots. "The flight was fine, the meal was fine, the ride in the Rolls was fine, and this extravagant suite is fine. When am I going to get to see how you are, Tony?"

"Um... well..."

"Jarvis likes me. I bet he wouldn't lock me out even if you told him to."

"What are you going to do, put on ninja pajamas and scale the cliff?"

"If I have to. I'm sure Pepper would help me."

"I don't actually _need_ caretakers. I got myself home and I am perfectly capable of looking after myself!"

Steve thought a moment before bringing out the big guns. "I'll bring pizza. With extra cheese."

Tony sighed. "All right. Fine. You can come by tomorrow. But you can't stay. I really am trying to catch up."

"Great! I'll see you tomorrow." Steve grinned and gave Pepper and Happy the thumbs' up.


	8. Chapter 8

Happy drove Steve to the door of Tony's Malibu mansion and waited while Steve smiled at the real sensor, not the fake camera. "Jarvis, the pizza's getting cold." He nodded at the greasy paper bag sitting on top of the pizza box. "And the garlic oil rolls." The door clicked open. Steve turned back to Happy. "I'm hoping I won't need a ride back tonight."

"Good luck, sir!" Happy grinned and got back in the Rolls.

Steve stepped into the house and looked around. Everything seemed the same as the last time he'd visited, more than six months ago, except that there aren't any bodyguards around, no one to answer the door except for Jarvis, who could hardly tackle a prospective kidnapper. He frowned. "Tony!" He walked over to the driftwood table and set down the box. "PIZZA." He sat down on the couch and pretended that he wasn't about to jump out of his skin with nerves. He heard Tony coming up the stairs, reassuringly in his usual two and three treads at a stride bounce. "Hey." Tony was wearing three shirts, a long sleeved gray knit, a three-quarter sleeve dark gray and a black regular tee. The sling was nowhere in evidence.

"Hey." Tony grinned and came over to the table, sticking his hand into the garlic roll bag and pulling one out. "Thanks. You're looking good." He bit off a chunk of roll and sat down on the table, all superficial charm and gloss. There were fading bruises on his face and cuts on his hands and what Steve could see of his arms.

"Yeah, I finally got my allergies under control." Steve opened the pizza box and took out a slice and put it on a napkin. He offered it to Tony. "Here, don't be a slob."

"I didn't miss you bossing me around." But Tony took the napkin and the pizza. He kept looking at Steve between bites.

The silence was starting to become uncomfortable. "What's with the fashion statement?" he finally said, waving to indicate Tony's layers of shirts.

"Um. Well, I developed a chest condition... nothing serious," Tony hastened to add when Steve straightened in alarm. "It's just... it was always cold in those caves."

"Oh." Psychological damage, Steve thought. "You know, I could give you a massage. That'd warm you right up." He smiled.

"Yeah, I bet it would." Tony shrugged. "I'll take a rain check. Thanks for the pizza." Tony stood up.

"What?" Steve stood up, baffled. "Where are you going?"

"Back to work. I told you I was busy."

"Tony, you've been kidnapped and missing for three months. I'm not going to leave you here alone!" Steve firmed his jaw. Even if it made Tony angry, he's got to say it. "You're vulnerable. Where are your bodyguards?"

Tony started walking backwards, pizza slice in hand. "You know, I was in an armored vehicle, in the middle of a military convoy full of trained and armed airmen. Most of them died. Three of them were in the humvee with me. Nice kids, clean-cut, brave, intelligent, funny and sweet kids. And guess what their last thoughts were? Protecting the civilian. Me. That's not going to happen again, Steve. And it sure isn't going to happen to you. Jarvis has the house on lock-down. I'm fine here."

"Tony..." Steve sighed and spread his hands. "All right, I admit I'm no use to you, but I've brought a friend with me, a trained fighter, a man who owes me his life. If you go out, please, let me send him to go with you. He'd be glad to protect you."

Tony stopped and looked at Steve, confused. "You saved someone's life? Who?"

"I can't tell you his name. He was dying, and he volunteered for the serum. It was a violation of medical ethics, and although it saved his life, there were side-effects. To protect me, he agreed to keep his identity a secret." At least Tony was interested enough to stand there. "He's been... fighting crime in New York City for months. Ask Jarvis to look up information on Captain America."

"Captain America." Tony blinked. "Are you serious?"

"Yes. Please, Tony."

Tony shrugged. "I'll think about it. Jarvis, call Happy. Mr. Rogers is leaving now." Tony turned and was down the stairs into his workshop before Steve could follow. 

Steve sighed and closed the pizza box. "Jarvis, please remind Tony the rest of the pizza is here. You know, when he's reduced to drinking one of Dummy's smoothies. Even cold pizza is better than that."

"Yes, Mr. Rogers. Happy will meet you outside."

"I'm going." Steve shook his head and walked to the door. Tony was being pig-headed, well, two could play at that game.


	9. Chapter 9

Pepper was waiting when Steve returned to the suite. "I'm sorry," she said. "I hoped he'd let you stay."

From her lack of surprise, Steve assumed that Happy had called her to report his failure. He shrugged and went over to his suitcase. He hadn't unpacked, which was convenient. "Has he even seen a doctor?" He knew better than to ask if Tony had spoken to anyone involved in mental health- Tony would gnaw off his own arm to escape that sort of situation.

"Well, a medic looked at him in Afghanistan." Pepper looked unhappy, so it didn't sound as if that had been much of an examination. "I tried to get him to go to the hospital here."

"Do you know why he's covering up his chest? Is it just psychological, or is he hiding an actual injury?"

Pepper winced. "He's... it's... it's Tony's business, not mine to discuss. If I betray his trust, he won't have anyone."

That hurt. Yes, Pepper had known Tony far longer than Steve had, but he had hoped they were building something... well... to be fair, Steve hadn't told Tony _his_ secret. He had what he thought were good reasons, probably Tony did, too. "All right. I'm not leaving town right away, in case Tony gets an attack of common sense and lets his friends help him, but I can't stay here. You understand." He carried the suitcase and the shield box to the door of the suite.

"Yes, of course. Would you like me to arrange accommodations elsewhere?"

"No, I'll just get a cab and see what the driver recommends. You've got my number, call me if you need anything." He smiled. "Even if it's only to complain that Tony's driving you crazy." He put down the case and box and held out his arms. Pepper moved into his hug. 

"Thank you," she said softly. "I may take you up on your offer."

***

The nearest hotel to Tony's mansion was a generic chain, the type with inexpensive prints bolted to the walls. It was reasonably clean, which was a plus. In this case the realtors' 'location, location, location' was his overriding concern. He checked in, deposited his belongings in the room, and used his wifi to verify an address. Then he ate some of his special energy food and changed into Captain America, but put ordinary clothes over his costume. He stuffed his hood in his pocket before he phoned for another cab. His red boots probably would look weird, but mostly people don't look at his feet when they see him coming.

When they came within sight of the dingy club, the driver waved a hand at the row of motorcycles parked in front. "You sure this is the place? Man, they don't like tourists. It could get really hairy."

"I'm sure I'm perfectly safe with these officers of the law." Steve smiled, over-tipped the driver and got out of the cab several blocks away from the club.

"Well, it's your neck. Good luck!" the driver said as he drove off.

Once the cab was out of sight, Steve pulled his hood in place and strode up to the club, trying not to feel like an overgrown child at Halloween. Blank helmets turned to face him, and more than a few hands hovered near holstered guns. Hairy. Yeah, that could happen.

Steve went over to the nearest motorcyclist, a woman who wore a leather jacket with 'Iron Brotherhood M/C' embroidered across the shoulders. He told her, "I know this looks silly, but I'm a member of a New York club, the Praetorian L.E.M.C., and I could use your assistance."

The woman took off her helmet. "I've heard of them." She didn't sound impressed. "I never heard they wear masks. What do you want?"

"Well, I'm more of an honorary member." Steve took out his wallet and pulled out the club ID the New York law enforcement motorcycle club had given Captain America. He handed her the card. "I'm on a mission here, and couldn't bring my motorcycle. I can't rent or buy one without proper ID, so I'm hoping I can borrow one."

"Huh." The woman studied the card and then studied him. "Captain America?"

"I'm prepared to pay full price for the motorcycle, up front, in case it can't be returned-- I can be awfully hard on equipment."

"Wait here." She got off the motorcycle and went into the club.

Steve tried not to look as awkwardly out of place as he felt, but it wasn't easy. In New York the cops had become accustomed to him, but here he felt like a freak. There were loud voices from inside the club, and he tensed, ready to run, and regretting he hadn't brought his shield. It wouldn't stop a bullet, but it would make it a lot harder to aim at him. They wouldn't shoot him for being weird, though. It wasn't as if he'd done anything illegal, like impersonating an officer.

Less than two minutes later, the double doors to the club burst open and a group, mostly men wearing matching jackets, poured out onto the street. Steve recognized the leader- not the tallest, biggest or oldest of the group, but indefinably the man in charge. He straightened and waited to see what would happen.

"You're Captain America?" the man said dubiously.

"Well, sir, that's what they call me." Steve wondered if they were annoyed by the rank-- it wasn't as if he wore any official insignia. "Like Captain Crunch," he offered.

Someone at the back of the group snickered. Steve hadn't meant it as joke, just... you know, it's a nickname, that's all.

"Prove it," the leader said. 

"Um. Ok." Some of the cops had stayed on their motorcycles. He went to the nearest one, a powerful looking machine- heavier than an official police motorcycle- that looked well suited to its rider, a tall black man who looked like he could be on the US Olympic weight-lifting team. "Excuse me, sir," Steve said as he got a firm grip on the motorcycle and lifted it slowly into the air before turning back to face the leader.

***

It was a little embarrassing being given a police escort up to Tony's house, but it was a good introduction to the local law enforcement they passed along the way. Steve had taken off his outer clothing and accepted a dark blue helmet along with the loan of the motorcycle he'd lifted, and he had to admit it really was actually fun riding along on the Pacific Coast Highway under clear blue skies as part of a 'bike gang'. He would have never in a million years dreamed he'd do something like this. Heck, he used to have to check the pollen reports before he could take his bicycle around the block.

He split off from the group when he reached Tony's private driveway, and waved goodbye to his new friends. He parked the bike near the front door. "Mr. Rogers sent me," he said, looking around like someone would who'd been told about Jarvis, but didn't know where the surveillance devices were. "I'm here to introduce myself to Mr. Stark, if that's convenient for him now."

Jarvis spoke, as dryly as ever, "Whom shall I say is calling, sir?"

Good old Jarvis. "Captain America."

Jarvis paused long enough to be mildly insulting. "I see, sir. I will notify Mr. Stark of your arrival, Captain."

Steve was beginning to regret not coming up with a less silly superhero name. Nomad, that would have been dramatic, could have had a sleek black costume like a ninja. Oh, well...maybe if Captain America ever needed a vacation Nomad could take over. 

The door clicked open. "Mr. Stark will see you now."

"Thanks." Steve stepped in and looked around, careful to walk straight forward, rather than to the side where the workshop stairs were. From the door you couldn't see them, and certainly wouldn't know that Tony spent more time there than anywhere else in his house. 

"Captain?" Tony came up the steps with even more bounce than he'd shown Steve, but he looked more tired. He was still wearing layers of shirts, but this time beneath the grease all of them were black, so it wasn't so obvious.

"Mr. Stark." Steve turned politely and held out his hand.

Tony pretended not to notice it until Steve let his hand drop. "Steve made you? I gotta admit, the guy does good work." He walked around Steve, blatantly staring. "Don't you carry a big frisbee? What's the matter, lost it on a roof somewhere?"

Steve sighed. Tony was going to be an ass, trying to drive him away. "I left my shield behind. If you'd like to play catch with it, I can go get it."

Tony tilted his head. "Nah. I've seen it in action. It's not much. Carbon steel?"

"Yeah." The shield had been pretty expensive, and was awfully tough, but to Tony it was probably little more than a toy. "It does the job."

"What do you get out of it? I mean, the heroing? You're not getting paid, unless you count sticky kisses from rescued babies."

"I do count them, actually. I was dying, and that makes a person think about what's important in life. When you get right down to it, there's really nothing more important than helping people. Every day is a gift, one I'm grateful to be able to use for that purpose. I'm... it wouldn't be right to use my strength and all the other gifts that Mr. Rogers gave me for anything else."

"So, you're here to help me out of gratitude for Rogers. That it? Payback?"

"You're very important to Mr. Rogers, sir. He...missed you while you were gone. He missed you something fierce, sir. It'd make him feel better if you'd let me accompany you when you leave the house. At least that." Steve tried to let his voice show how very serious he was.

"I don't need you. But... I'll call you when I go out. Do you have normal clothes, or are you going to embarrass me by showing up draped in the flag?"

"I have normal clothes, but the costume is armored."

Tony shook his head. "You're kidding, right? That's not even Kevlar. Jarvis! Did you get Captain Spangles' measurements?"

"Don't I always, sir?"

Tony grinned. "Yeah, you do." He gave Steve a half-wave. "Come back tomorrow afternoon. I'll have something better for you than tights and a pie pan." He headed back down the stairs.

"Thank you, Mr. Stark," Steve called. Well, he didn't get to stay, but at least he got a look at Tony's ass.


	10. Chapter 10

Steve was on his laptop handling business questions from his staff in New York when his cell rang. He'd had to look up the name of the ring-tone Tony had programmed into it long ago-- 'Genius of Love'. He was fairly sure Tony hadn't selected it because he liked the music. Steve had let the joke stay because it was so Tony it always made him smile. 

"Hey, Tony," Steve answered. "Captain America told me you promised him a new shield. I guess you don't mind him too much, then?"

"Well, you know, any friend of yours. Is he just a friend? I mean, he's gorgeous and seems like a nice guy, so that would be, y'know, understandable." 

Tony was jealous of Steve's alter-ego. That was flattering in a weird way. "Oh, god, no, the Captain is like my brother."

"Oh. Well, it would be fine if you'd... you know, I was gone a long time and it wasn't as if we'd made any promises... and I can't... I'm really busy now so we can't get together again." Tony sounded miserable and rambling to cover it.

"Tony, there isn't anyone else."

"I spoiled you for anyone else, didn't I?"

Steve laughed. "Your ego doesn't need feeding." Even though Steve thought it was kinda true. "I never was a social butterfly and my business keeps me busy."

"Yeah. You should... probably go back to New York, and look after it. I get that you had to come and see me, but now you know I'm all right, and I'll even let Starman hang out for a while, until he gets bored. Because really, the guys who didn't like me are all gone. They're not going to bother anyone."

"It's nice here in California. I might go down to the beach and enjoy the sunshine."

"You burn."

"You could come with me and rub sunscreen on my back."

There was silence that stretched almost to the point of being uncomfortable before Tony said, "I can't. Um... I've got to go, Dummy is doing terrible things to the blender and I think the blender is fighting back."

Steve didn't know what was going on in Tony's mind, but it was pretty obvious he wasn't happy about keeping Steve at arm's length. This time though, Steve wasn't going to leave him to work it out by himself. "You're not still mad at me, are you?"

"Mad at you?" Tony sounded honestly confused. "Why would I be mad at you, Steve?"

"Well..." He wasn't sure if he should say it or not, but now that he'd opened the subject, he couldn't let it go. "Before. When you thought I was...you know, trying to tell you what to do. I wasn't, really."

"Yeah. Yeah, I know that. I've been a fuck-up, but I'm going to try to do better." Tony sighed. "It's complicated and I'm really going to have to work things out on my own first."

"All right, I respect that, Tony, but if there's ever anything I can do, you call me."

"I might take you up on that. Thanks, Steve. Bye."

Steve hoped Tony really would accept help. He had a tendency to assume that he could do everything on his own, which worked out fairly well for him with machinery, but not too great when dealing with people.

***

Captain America rode back to Malibu the next day, after calling to make sure Tony wouldn't be surprised by his visit. Not that Tony was an absent-minded professor, no, just... he didn't seem to notice time passing while he was involved with something. Pepper had told Steve stories about Tony missing major holidays, including ones where he was scheduled to make an appearance. She'd also said that she wished she'd let him miss the weapon's demonstration in Afghanistan. Of course that was after a three-martini lunch one day when Obi was pressing her particularly hard to let him cannibalize Jarvis. Steve had no polite words to describe Obi.

"Mr. Stark?" Steve said when he approached the front door after parking his 'bike and the door opened without interrogation.

"Mr. Stark is awaiting you in his workshop," Jarvis said. "The stairs are to your left."

"Oh. Thanks." Steve took the steps rapidly, and then knocked on the glass. From what he could see, the 'garage' looked the same as ever. Tony was at his desk, back to the door. "Mr. Stark? It's Captain America. May I come in?"

"Don't be so formal, Cap." Tony turned to face him, blanking the screens he had been using. "Come in and see the lovely toys your uncle Tony has made for you."

Steve was glad the mask covered his cheeks, because Tony's flirt-voice always made him blush, even when it was just a joke. "I do hope they're age-appropriate."

Tony grinned. "Child-safe, I promise. They're too big to swallow, anyway."

Ok, that was it, Steve wasn't giving Tony any more openings, his face was probably hot enough to register on infra-red sensors. "I... "

Tony laughed. "Yeah, you're right. I can be serious, totally I can." He got up and went over to one of the work benches. "Ok, shield here, made of a space-age alloy that makes steel look like corrugated cardboard. It'll do until something better comes along." He picked up a shield painted the same as Steve's old one, and tossed it to him.

Steve caught it by reflex, then slipped his arm into the straps. It was lighter than he expected and he frowned at that. "How strong is it?"

"Small caliber fire up to most military issue ammo. won't scratch it, but I wouldn't put it up against rocket launchers or armor-piercing rounds. I've printed out the specs and the firing tests for you to familiarize yourself. The suit incorporates plates of the alloy meshed between BTK fabric." Tony held up the shirt from a Captain America uniform. It was colored the same as the one he wore, but there was a faintly iridescent sheen that shifted as it moved.

"BTK?"

"Better Than Kevlar. SI is still trying to come up with a catchy name before we market it. Why don't you try it on?"

"Sure, thanks." Steve came forward and picked up the pieces of the uniform. "Um. Is there somewhere I could change?"

"Are you shy? Doesn't living in barracks teach you to get over that?"

"As I'm sure you've guessed by now, Mr. Stark, I've never had military training." Steve wondered if Tony was flirting, or trying to drive him away. Or both. "But if you want, I can strip right here." Call his bluff.

"Yes, please." Tony smiled sweetly.

Great. Well, why not? Tony had seen him naked enough times, so why be modest? And it's not as if Tony could recognize him. His face, maybe, the features were stronger, but still based on Steve Rogers. He stripped, all except the hood, and redressed in the new uniform, leaving the new hood lying on the workbench. So his body responded to Tony's direct gaze, that was nothing to be ashamed about. He'd defy anyone not to respond when Tony Stark looked at them with intent.

"Hmm..." Tony came up and walked all around him. "How's the fit? Does it pinch anywhere? Hinder your mobility? Come on, flex for me. Let's see how far exo-spandex can span."

Steve held his tongue, but he couldn't stop his eyeroll. "Mr. Stark, I don't know if Mr. Rogers explained it you, but I'm not a life-size action figure."

"No. Definitely not. Bigger than life." Tony shook his head. "Ok, you're right, that's inappropriate, but really, you should try the full range of motion. It's the only way we'll know if it needs adjustment. I tried to allow for muscle contraction and expansion, but that was all extrapolations, not based on experimental data."

"Fine. Stand back, I'll need more room." And then Steve... well... he was only human, and he couldn't resist. So he showed off, back flips, spins, broad jumps, all the gymnastic poses that best showed off his muscles and his amazing balance and reflexes. It was always exhilarating, but more so with Tony watching, for once stricken into silence. When Steve did a last tumbling run and ended, grinning, back at the workbench, Tony took a half step back. Tony's bots had been whirring and turning to watch Steve, too, and now all eyes, human and mechanical, and probably Jarvis's sensors, were on him.

"The suit's fine," Steve said. A pang of hunger hit, and he realized he'd pushed himself a bit much. "Excuse me." He picked up his old 'utility' belt- people probably thought it was full of gadgets and weapons- and retrieved several packets of his energy food. "I have to eat a lot." He was finishing off the second packet when Tony handed him a water bottle. "Thanks." Tony nodded and watched as he drank the bottle and went through several more food concentrate packets before he felt satisfied.

"Is that a problem?" Tony asked, waving a hand at the packets Steve had been gulping down.

"Yeah," Steve admitted. He wouldn't tell anyone else, but Tony-- well, Tony kept secrets for the military, he wasn't going to go blabbing to the media about Captain America's weak spot. "I burn up a lot of calories and if I don't get enough... well, I could die. So, you know, let's keep this between us."

Tony nodded. His hand went to his chest, not quite touching. "I will."


	11. Chapter 11

Before he left, when Tony seemed to be in a good mood, but also distracted by wanting to get back to whatever his secret project was, Steve said, "Mr. Rogers told me your computer is almost like a real person." He said it using his most innocent, 'what are all those shiny blinky lights?' voice. One thing he'd discovered early on was that people tended to look at Captain America, see a lot of muscle, and assume he was none too bright. Maybe they thought he worked out 24/7 and had never taken the time to learn to read. He didn't think Tony was immune to assumptions, especially when it came to thinking people were dumb. Compared to Tony, most people _were_ dumb. But then, most people knew when they were hungry or tired, two things that sometimes slipped Tony's notice entirely.

"Jarvis? Jarvis isn't a computer. He _uses_ a computer, the way you use your body." And Tony did definitely give Steve an appraising, approving, glance. "But yeah, Jarvis is real."

"So he can make decisions without you telling him to do things?"

Tony rolled his eyes. "We're not getting into Skynet territory."

"Thank you, sir," Jarvis said dryly, "I find my current duties quite sufficient; global domination holds no appeal."

Steve blinked and tried to look a bit shaken, rather than amused. "Um. I just... I just wanted to know if you could maybe set Jarvis to call me when you go out."

"Set? Like an alarm clock?" Tony was grinning at Steve. "Sure. Hey, Jarvis, you've got Cap's cell from his call, give him a buzz whenever I emerge from my lair to interact with humanity."

"Thank you, Mr. Stark," Steve said.

"Call me Tony, I keep looking around for my old man when you say that."

"Thanks, Tony. And thanks for the suit and shield." Steve held out his hand. After a moment, Tony accepted the handshake. Steve was careful. The first time he picked up an egg in his serum-enhanced body still lingered in his mind. "I'll see you later, then."

***

Pepper knew more than she was saying, but she trusted Steve enough to drop a few hints. Tony was actually working on something, not brooding or drowning himself in booze. That was only a small comfort to Steve, which was strange. He had hated Tony messing up his life with drink, but at least that was _familiar_. He wouldn't have been surprised for Tony to react to his escape from captivity by going on a bender, but since he wasn't doing that, Steve really had no clue what was going on in that squirrel in a cage mind of Tony's. 

Pepper had invited him to a benefit and he'd decided to go. He didn't like the idea of her being there with Obi; the man had a tendency to get far too close, to loom. And occasionally to get away with mildly sadistic touches. During Tony's 'SI's New Direction' press conference the cameras had caught him giving Tony a 'friendly' grip on the shoulder of the arm that was in a sling. The benefit was a good cause, 'Tony Stark's third annual benefit for the Firefighter's Family Fund'. Rogersmed should support that, anyway. He was chatting with Pepper while sipping a tonic water and lime when his...not his... Captain America's... cell phone vibrated in the pocket of his tuxedo. "Excuse me, I have to take this call." It had to be either Jarvis or Tony. No one else had that number. He turned slightly away from Pepper, who politely turned in the other direction to talk with the woman next to her.

"Mr. Stark has left the mansion. He will be attending a benefit at the Disney Concert Hall." And then Jarvis disconnected. Huh. Pepper didn't know Tony was coming, or she would have said something. So Tony was sneaking out without any of the bodyguards Pepper would have sent. Steve would have to leave to get his suit and motorcycle, stashed in the van he'd rented and parked a few blocks away. Valet parking was not really compatible with a secret identity. He turned back to Pepper and caught her eye. "I'm sorry, but I'll have to leave early. Something came up unexpectedly."

Pepper nodded. "Business?"

"Yeah. It's time-sensitive." He shrugged. "It's just as well, I'm not a very good dancer."

***

Steve wasn't too concerned about Tony getting into trouble on the way since the one thing Tony could do, drunk or sober, was navigate fast moving vehicles. A police officer might pull him over, but Tony was pretty good about charming his way out of that, too. It wasn't as if Steve really expected trouble. He just... well... after nearly losing Tony once, and now Tony acting 'off', he wanted to watch Tony's back. It would make him feel better. This was the first time Tony'd left the mansion since the press conference, after all. So he 'Capped Up' and sat on his motorcycle in the shadows near the concert hall, senses on full alert.

Tony drove up in his current favorite car, groomed and strutting in a custom-fit, probably bespoke, knowing Tony, tux. He looked good, and perfectly at ease with his 'public face' all shined up bright and smooth as the car. Obi was chatting up a reporter on the steps outside, doing his job, Steve supposed. He still didn't like the man, didn't like his fake smiles and the patronizing voice he used with Tony. Tony barely paused to exchange a few words with Obi before he vanished into the building. He said he'd only be a moment, and since Tony didn't really enjoy these things he probably wouldn't stay more than an hour or so. Steve figured he could afford to wait and see Tony safely back to his car before he reverted to normal. Just sitting doesn't use much energy.

Obi was still spinning tales for the reporter when Tony emerged only a few minutes later. Steve straightened. He really hadn't expected Tony to leave that soon, and the look on his face... expression locked down. That's... something's very wrong. He sharpened his hearing, and watched as Obi bullied Tony into posing for the press while sticking a verbal knife in Tony's back. Steve knew what the company meant to Tony, and here was Obi cheerfully admitting that he was taking control, and using it in ways Tony would never have approved. Steve doesn't know what the pictures are, or where Gulmira is, but double-dealing in the merchandise Tony's company makes... that's lives Obi is carelessly throwing away. Selling weapons to the highest bidder? Tony had always been so adamant that his weapons were only to be used to protect America, and Americans. What had Obi done?

Steve resisted the urge to grab Obi and shake answers out of him. It was far more important to follow Tony, to make sure he made it safely back to the mansion. He didn't take into consideration the fact that he'd need a lot more horsepower to keep up with a luxury sports car driven by a very upset Tony Stark. He lost sight of the car within a few minutes, but doggedly continued on to the mansion since it was the only place he knew to look for Tony. 

He arrived, and went to the front door. "Jarvis, let me in, this is Captain America."

"I am sorry, sir, but I must deny you admittance."

"All right, just tell me, is Tony in?"

"I regret that sir has given instructions not to reveal his whereabouts."

"Damn." Steve clenched his fists, but didn't break the door down. He walked around and down the slope to look in the windows of the garage/workshop a level down from the front door. The silver Audi was there, so Tony _must_ be home. He went around to look into the driveway leading to the garage, and saw the smashed racecar and the hole in the ceiling above. "What the hell?" He entered the garage.

"Sir!" Jarvis said, "You do not have permission to enter."

"Jarvis, there's a hole in the ceiling! Where's Tony? Is he all right?" He took a couple steps further and saw the glass doors leading to the living quarters upstairs were smashed as well. "Who did this? Has someone snatched him?" Should Steve call the police? Captain America wasn't a detective.

"The...alterations... to the house were done by sir. He has gone on an errand and given no estimate of his return."

"Gone? How? All the cars are here. Did Happy pick him up in a limo? Did he call a cab? Walk? Jump off the cliff?" Steve didn't think someone who blew holes in their home was in a fit state to be wandering about alone.

"I regret that I cannot provide further information."

"You should. Tony said you were to tell me when he left the house." There was a long pause, during which Steve wondered if he could outsmart Jarvis into telling him what was going on.

Finally Jarvis said, "Mr. Stark has left the house."

Steve sighed. He couldn't stay Captain America indefinitely, and he couldn't change back to Steve in front of Jarvis's recording equipment. "Fine. I'm going to go back to Mr. Rogers and see what he has to say. If he comes, will you let him in?"

Jarvis actually sounded sorry as he said, "Only three persons have override access to the mansion in Mr. Stark's absence. Mr. Rogers is not one of them."

"Let me guess, Ms. Potts, Colonel Rhodes and Mr. Stane have the access overrides?"

"That is correct, sir."

"Fine." Steve would have to go back to the party and get Pepper. He wouldn't ask Obi for the time of day.


	12. Chapter 12

Pepper took one look at Steve's face and immediately put down the martini she was scowling over. "Tony was here, but he left without a word. Do you know what's going on?"

"Not really. I saw him leave. He looked upset so I sent Captain America after him. The Captain followed Tony back to the mansion. The Audi's there, but Tony's gone. He said it looked like..." Steve bit back the words 'a bomb had gone off'. "Well, there was damage in the workshop. Jarvis told him Tony had done it before he left 'on an errand', but it wouldn't let the Captain in the house to wait for his return. "

Pepper visibly took a deep breath before picking up the martini and gulping it down. "God. I just... never mind. Come on, Jarvis will let me in." Pepper strode to the exit, Steve hurrying to keep up.

***

"I don't know that I should let you into the workshop," Pepper said when they reached the mansion. They'd taken her car. Steve didn't have a ready explanation for the van and motorcycle, so he'd said he'd come by taxi. She looked at Steve apologetically. "Tony's been working on a project. He won't even let Obi know about it."

Steve was frustrated, but he nodded. "I understand. I'll just wait out here." He sat down on the living room couch with his back to the gaping holes in the ceiling and floor and the plaster-covered, splintered wreck that used to be a grand piano. Tony had bought the piano for Obi so he felt strangely pleased by its destruction while the guitars he and Tony sometimes played were leaning unharmed against the far wall. 

Pepper smiled ruefully at him. "I'll just be a minute, I want to see if he left a message with Jarvis."

Steve nodded again. He resisted the urge to get up and pace. Jarvis would be watching, and he always felt a little self-conscious when Tony wasn't in the room. Pepper returned a few minutes later. "You're right, the workshop is a mess. I don't... I don't know what's going on in Tony's mind these days."

"Oh, well, that's nothing new." Steve's joke fell flat. "He'll be all right." He patted Pepper's hand and started talking about an exhibit he'd seen at MOMA.

***

At first Steve thought it was an off-course commercial jet, but the noise kept coming closer. Pepper gave him a startled look before scrambling to her feet. "No, he couldn't. Not even Tony could be that..."

And then a red and gold figure _whooshed_ down through the hole in the roof and there was a loud crash from the workshop. Steve didn't ask for permission; he just threw himself off the couch and down the steps to the workshop. Jarvis was saying something, and Pepper was shouting as he tore through the broken glass and skidded to a stop in front of the robot draped over the, even more smashed than previously, blue race car. Dummy turned a fire extinguisher on it, and the robot slumped back, letting its head fall with a clunk against the car.

"What are you?" Steve grabbed a wrench. "And what have you done with Tony?" The robot turned its head towards Steve and he tensed, ready to bash it if it made an aggressive move. Glowing white ... eyes?... well, the lights were where eyes should be, but he couldn't see any focussing mechanism... faced him.

"No! No, don't hit him... I mean, it," Pepper said, tumbling down the steps behind Steve. "It's Tony's. That's what he's been making. It's... totally harmless."

"Harmless? It's smashed up the house and done something with Tony!" Steve got a two-handed grip on the wrench.

"Mr. Stark is perfectly safe," the robot said, in a voice that sounded much like Tony's. "I obey his orders."

"Tony?" Steve took another step forward.

"Mr. Stark gave me his own voice," the robot said as it disentangled itself from the car. "My prototype enabled his escape, but was destroyed in the process." It tilted its head in Steve's direction. "I am a more capable bodyguard than Captain America. When Mr. Stark calls me, I will bring him back from his refuge."

"Where is he?" Steve demanded.

"Are those... bullet holes?" Pepper asked, staring at the robot.

"My functioning is unimpaired. Mr. Stark will repair the cosmetic damage. He is unharmed. I do not have permission to reveal his location." The robot walked over to an alcove and leaned against the wall. The light in the 'eyes' went out, but the larger light in the chest remained lit.

Pepper threw her hands up in the air. "Fine. Come on, Steve. I need a drink. Away from here."

"I want to wait for Tony."

Pepper sighed. "It won't do any good. The only one it'll listen to is Tony, no matter how _ridiculous_ he's being." Pepper reached for Steve's arm, and reluctantly he did the gentlemanly thing and let her take it.

***

Pepper returned after dropping Steve off at the gala. He'd told her that he felt he owed it to the charity, but really, he was just hoping that somehow Tony would return. Obie was still kissing up to the reporters, and everything looked the same.

***

Tony was back the next morning and in a good mood when Steve showed up on his doorstep. "Hey, Steve! I heard you met my new invention last night. What did you think of him?" Tony was bruised, but bouncing with energy as he led Steve back down to the workshop, so whatever had happened, it hadn't been too serious.

"I thought he wasn't house-trained." Steve looked pointedly at the pathetically squashed car.

Tony laughed. "Eh, minor hiccups there with the navigation." The top half of the robot was dangling from a hoist, with wiring and other unidentifiable bits hanging out. Tony sat down beneath it and picked up a tool that probably was some sort of welder, maybe. Machinery really wasn't Steve's specialty. "But really, it's fine, he'll take care of me, so you and Captain America can go back to New York."

"Are you trying to get rid of me?" Steve felt sick to his stomach. 

"No! No, of course not, Steve. I've just... got some loose ends to tie up, and then I'll be going back to New York, too. This house is gonna need some serious remodeling."

"Could I help you tie up some of the loose ends?" 

There was a long pause and then Tony said, "Yeah, you know, I was going to ask Pepper to pick something up at the office for me, but maybe it would be better if you did it. She's kinda... a little, just a little, annoyed at me for last night. If you didn't mind?"

"No, of course I don't mind."

"Great!" Tony tossed a flash drive at Steve. "I shut down weapons' production, but some of the shipments have gone astray." Tony made a face. "Someone inside S.I.'s been dealing under the table, so I can't just demand an accounting. I don't want to scare them and have them destroy the records. It should all be on my office computer, probably in a ghost drive. The lock drive I've given you will open it. Copy all the records and bring them back to me." He dove back under the robot and resumed work.

"Tony."

"Yah, huh?" It was obvious Tony was gone off into his own mental world again.

Steve sighed. "Fine. I'll get it. But we're going to have a talk when I return!"

"Uh huh," came from the interior of the robot. 

Steve shook his head and left. Once he had the information, Tony would have to talk to him.


	13. Chapter 13

There weren't many people on the lower floor of S.I. when Steve arrived and no one noticed him. There were times when it came in handy, being easily overlooked. Not many, but this was one of them. Tony's office wasn't locked, but then there was nothing valuable in it except the computer, which Tony had probably fitted up to defend itself against unauthorized intrusion by anything up to and including electrocution.

He turned the computer on, and put in the lock drive. There were around a dozen folders. Steve clicked on a few to check that this was the sort of thing Tony wanted before setting the drive to copy them. He saw a video link and hesitated-- if it was one of Tony's sex tapes he really didn't want to see it. But it probably wasn't. Tony tended to label his sex tapes quite clearly in a system that was um... graphic... So he started the video. And felt his stomach turn over. Tony, dazed, bound, and bloody, sitting amidst a group of heavily-armed men in dirty, guerrilla-style clothing, all hiding their faces behind cloth. One of the men was talking harshly in a language Steve doesn't understand. "Dear God, where did this come from?" Steve whispered, scrambling to activate the translation program Tony had on all his computers. Steve stared intently at the video, horrified even more when he heard that Obi had paid to have Tony killed. "This will kill Tony."

"Yeah, that was the idea."

Steve nearly fell out of the chair at Obi's voice. Obi was standing in the open doorway; he turned to shut the door. Steve seized that moment's inattention to grab the lockdrive and shove it in his pocket, standing up and backing away from the desk. "It's over, Stane," he said. "Give yourself up. If you turn in your contacts, you can probably make a deal and be out in a few years."

Obi smiled at him. "You know, I just should have known better than to outsource. Eh, good old American pride in a job well done, you just can't find it anywhere else." He walked over to Steve. "But now, you see, maybe it's better this way. They wouldn't let me declare Tony dead even after three months! Lawyers! This is my company. Howard knew it when he made me his partner, but pride... you know... he just had to will his stock to his boy. I was so sure... you know, Howard, he had it coming. He liked to drink too much, and drive too fast, and it was really a pity the brakes failed on that cliff." 

Steve stood still trying to decide what to do. If he Capped up, he could easily handle Obi, but maybe it would be better to wait until Obi finished his confession.

"It seemed a little..." Obi pursed his lips and shrugged, "a little too... trite... to handle Tony the same way. And he was useful, I give you that, the boy's bright, but the law of diminishing returns must be obeyed. There's no profit in sentiment. It's time for the fatted calf to follow his parents." Obi lunged at Steve, who ducked and ran for the door. Obi caught up with him in two strides and slapped him across the face. "No, no, don't run away, little man. We're going to visit Tony together. We'll arrange a nice little scene-- something to look good in the papers. Tony can go out with a bang."

Steve's head was ringing from the blow. He drew a breath to Cap up, to fight. He put his sharp, thin, elbow into Obi's gut and got clear for a second before he fell to his knees, trying to draw on the Cap, hurry, hurry. 

"Why, you little shit!" Obi kicked Steve in the side, hard. The crunch of breaking ribs was loud enough to cover Steve's shocked gasp at the sudden pain, caught in mid-transition, confused, unable to complete the change. He was hurt, really hurt. Obi dragged him up by his shirt. Steve felt warmth bubble up, and spill from his mouth; his breathing was all wet and suffocating. "Look at the mess you've made," Obi said, sounding annoyed as if a puppy had piddled on the carpet. "I can't take you out in public like that."

Steve wanted to fight, but his arms and legs were not paying any attention to him as Obi dragged him over to a door Steve hadn't noticed, opened it and flung him into a small lavatory. "You know, you should feel honored. Only a few people have access to the executive washroom. You just stay there, and stay quiet while I take care of Tony. I'll be back for you when it's dark." And then Steve saw the glossy shoe coming at his head, but he couldn't move. Bright yellow/blue/white starburst blocked out everything and then there was nothing.

***

He was moving, it took a little while before he realized it. Crawling until he touched the smooth, cool surface of the door. He got to his knees with all the grace of a fallen scarecrow and wondered briefly what was making that pitiful whining noise before he realized. _Oh. Me. That's... a door. Have to open it. Get to Tony. Warn him. Tony trusts Obi._ He pushed to his feet, and leaned against the door, fumbling until his hand wrapped around the knob and slipped off again. He wiped blood, was it? sure, what else could it be, he couldn't see in the dark room, the only light a thin line coming beneath the well-fitted door, but he could smell it as he wiped the blood off on his trousers and tried again to open the door. Locked. He rattled the knob and pounded the door as hard as he could and tried to shout, but all that came out were more beaten puppy noises. He slid against the door and went back to his knees, head dropping with a jerk that made his teeth clash together and added to the pain in his head. "Tony," he muttered. This wasn't working. Tony needed Captain America, not Steve Rogers. 

He needed to be Captain America. NOW! He staggered to his feet and threw himself at the door. Again. Again. The pain meant nothing. What good was he if he let Tony die because he was weak? What good was Steve Rogers? Again... and the strength poured through him, muscles bunched and tore through his shirt, destroyed his shoes, stretched the remnants of his trousers indecently taut across his hips as the door splintered, letting in light. The wrong angle, the light was wrong. How long? How... didn't matter, he had to go now, Tony would be at the mansion, he swore he'd call if he left. Steve felt in his pocket and came up with the shattered pieces of his cell phone, and the intact lockdrive. He tossed the phone away and shoved the lockdrive back into what was left of his pocket and ran, ran down the hall, burst through the doors, leaped down the steps and crashed into a middle-aged, but fit-looking, man.

He noticed the man was wearing a neatly pressed, discreetly fashionable, black suit as if he were a businessman, but in the fractional second of the collision his acute senses had time to recognize the shape of a handgun and a taser, so...unless business was a lot different in California, he was probably some sort of S.I. security, classed up a bit. "Sir!" the man said as Cap pulled free and made for the door. "Stop!"

Steve put his head down and ran. Even if he was shot he wasn't stopping. He'd parked his van nearby. He didn't bother unlocking the doors, but simply ripped them free of the hinges and threw on his suit over the rags of his clothes, transferring the drive to one of his utility pouches. He wouldn't have stopped to change, but he couldn't risk a time-wasting confrontation with a highway patrol officer, either. He yanked his motorcycle out of the van, locked his shield in place on his back and started the motor.

"STOP!" the man in black got in front of Steve, legs braced and gun aimed at his chest. "Ssstto... Captain America?"

Any other time, Steve would have smiled at the man's blank astonishment, and childlike awe. Apparently Captain America had made nationwide news and was popular with people who worked in security. "Son," Steve said sternly, "don't." He revved the engine and rode off, swerving to miss the man who was shouting, "Captain!"

Steve bent over the handlebars, urging the bike to the utmost. A few seconds later, he heard a car peel out of the parking lot. He spared a glance at the mirror. His fan was driving a black sedan with an apparent lack of concern for posted speed limits. Steve swerved, cut across several lanes of traffic, jumped the bike onto the verge and took off cross-country.

***

Give him that much, the security guy was persistent, never quite losing Steve's trail. At least he hadn't called in anyone else. Steve stopped on the hillside before he got too close to Tony's house, not wanting the sound of the motorcycle to alert Obi. And yes, Obi was there, he recognized the car parked arrogantly blocking the exit from Tony's garage. 

While he hesitated, trying to decide on his plan of attack, the black sedan drove up and came to a halt beside him. It was now dusty, and bore several scrapes and dents, but the man in black stepped out of it as unruffled as if he'd just been to get groceries. "Captain," the man said politely. "Would you care to explain what's going on?" He pulled out a billfold and flipped it open, holding it so Steve could read the identification. "Agent Phil Coulson, with the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division." 

Steve frowned. "That... doesn't mean anything to me."

Coulson shrugged. "We're a separate division. I was supposed to debrief Mr. Stark concerning his escape. Now seems as good a time as any. If he's home, that is."

"Yes." Steve looked Coulson over and decided he didn't have much to lose in trusting him. "Obadiah Stane was behind Mr. Stark's capture. He's been siphoning off Stark Industries most advanced weapons to sell to terrorists, anyone with the money. He's planning to murder Mr. Stark."

"I see. Well, we can't have that." Coulson looked down at the mansion, gazing in the direction of the gaping hole in the roof. "If I distract him at the front door, do you think you can effect an entrance through the roof in a flanking maneuver?"

"Sure thing. Let's go." Steve didn't wait for Coulson, he had to go much further to get around the mansion on the blind side, and then getting onto the roof silently wasn't going to be quick.

A few minutes later Steve was perched on the roof by the hole. He couldn't see anyone, but he could hear Obi's rough, gloating voice, carrying on another monologue. Steve didn't know who he was talking to. There was no response. Tony was never, ever, quiet, and he certainly wouldn't take Obi's betrayal silently... unless he had no other choice. Let him be gagged, or knocked out; just let Tony be alive. Steve tensed, ready to leap. The doorbell rang and Obi's ranting cut off abruptly.

Steve heard the quick, crisp sounds of Obi marching to the door, and flinging it open. He heard Coulson say cheerfully, "Have you found Jesus?" as Steve leaped in, arching his back to avoid following the hole down on top of the much-abused race car. He took in the scene at a glance. Tony was sprawled over the couch, wide-eyed, with paper white skin criss-crossed by raised purplish veins. But he was breathing. Beyond him, Obi was standing at the door, facing Coulson who was smiling and holding up some sort of pamphlet. Steve may have made some small sound at the sight of Tony. Well, actually, he might possibly have made an animalistic noise that could only be described as a growl.

Obi half turned. He had a gun in his hand and a look of pure hatred on his face as he aimed it-- not at Captain America-- at Tony. Steve didn't think about it. He snatched the shield off his back and threw it, hitting Stane's gun, which jerked around and went off. Stane crumpled. Coulson immediately knelt next to him and felt for a pulse. He shook his head after a moment. "Well, that's unfortunate," he said dryly. "I was hoping to be able to ask him some questions about those weapons."

"It's all on here," Steve said, pulling out the lockdrive and tossing it to Coulson. "Everything, including..." Steve went over to the couch and began loosening Tony's shirt. There was a coughing sound from behind the couch. Steve looked down and saw Pepper, looking up at him. For once she wasn't impeccably groomed. She coughed again. "Captain?"

Steve helped her to sit on the couch next to Tony. She put her hand over his when he went back to tugging at the topmost layer of Tony's knit shirts. "Don't. He'll be... all right. Obi... Stane... used the same thing on me a few minutes before he got Tony with it. It's temporary paralysis, no... long-term damage." She frowned. "One of Tony's inventions. One that was never supposed to be made."

Steve frowned. "Speaking of inventions, why didn't his robot stop Stane?"

Pepper looked at Tony, who lowered his eyelids slowly. Pepper threw up her hands. "I don't know. Stane had overrides for the house security. He shut down Jarvis, I suppose he did the same with it." She leaned back and closed her eyes. "I don't feel very much like talking, Captain."

Coulson said, "While I don't wish to appear insensitive, Ms. Potts, I feel that we must discuss a few things." He held up the lockdrive. "It will take time to track down Mr. Stane's contacts. We'll arrange a cover story for his... accidental demise to keep from causing them to immediately panic and scatter, but I need your word that you won't contradict it. In fact, it would be better if you left the vicinity entirely for a while. Take a holiday. I hear Bermuda is lovely this time of year."

"So is New York City," Steve said. "Mr. Stark told my friend that he was planning to go there while this house is renovated."

"That's an excellent idea," Pepper said without opening her eyes. "Tony will be happy to go."

Tony managed a small noise of protest. Pepper reached out blindly and patted him on the arm. "That was a 'yes'," Pepper declared firmly.


	14. Chapter 14

Steve decided not to let Tony have a chance to settle into a routine of avoidance in New York. "You'll be taking the corporate jet back to New York?" he asked Tony in his deepest Captain America voice, once the paralysis had passed. Tony's color was still grayish, but Steve felt emotional shock was enough to account for it. Since Tony looked like he was about to panic when Steve suggested a medical check-up, he had to hope that was all it was. After all, Pepper said she felt fine.

Tony glanced at Pepper, and then back at Steve. Steve didn't know what message passed between them, sometimes he thought they had a bit of that telepathic communication that married people are supposed to develop. He was pretty sure that Tony hadn't slept with Pepper, but they probably had danced pretty close to it, though. Tony said, "Yeah. You wanna lift?"

"It would be... a little awkward," Steve said, gesturing at his Captain America costume. "But if I could pass the invitation onto Mr. Rogers?"

"Sure," Tony said. "We didn't get to talk much."

***

The conversation in the plane was stilted at first, but then Happy started asking questions about Captain America. "When he's in New York, what gym does he use?" Happy asked.

"He doesn't need one," Steve said. "He just naturally stays fit."

Happy was impressed. "Wow. If I could have done that, I'd still be in the ring. Not that I couldn't put up a good fight even now, but you know, bein' a chauffeur's the wrong kind of road work."

Tony grinned. "If you want I could give you half a day off a week to run laps in Central Park."

"Gee, thanks, boss," Happy said. He didn't sound thrilled. "But you know, I wouldn't feel right, taking advantage, like that."

Tony laughed and Happy hurried to fill the conversation with questions about Captain America. It was a long flight and after a while they all fell into quiet contemplation, reading, listening to soft music over earphones, or just plain dozing- in Tony's case there was also fiddling with a StarkPad, which might have been work, or an attempt to beat 'Alice' at Sportsbikes Unlimited. Sometime in the middle of the night the cabin lights dimmed and the entertainment system was shut down (Steve was glad the stewardesses hadn't used the stripper pole to dance to the music. He'd been totally flustered by that the first time it happened.) Steve woke when the cabin lights came up and the stewardesses walked briskly up offering hot towels and breakfast options. 

After they landed, Steve gathered his luggage, including the box containing both shields (he didn't explain why he was carrying them for Cap. and no one asked. He didn't think anyone had the energy to notice. They parted at the Stark hangar. It was obvious Tony wasn't inviting Steve to the mansion when he saw two limos and hired drivers waiting for them.

***

Steve took a few days to catch up on company business, and then he called Pepper. "Hey, Pepper."

"Oh, hello, Steve." She sounded relieved to hear from him, which Steve decided to take as a good sign. 

"Is the lord and master in residence?"

Pepper snickered. "Do NOT ever call him that, he'll want plaques put up on the office. But yes, Tony's at the mansion. I don't know how long he's going to _stay_ there. He's... being a little obsessed with tracking down... you know..."

"Yeah." Steve could understand that. The one old-fashioned virtue that he and Tony had in common was patriotism. Whatever else anyone said about Tony, he'd meant his weapons to protect America. Maybe they were misused, maybe there were better ways to arrive at peace than just being bigger and scarier than anyone else, but Tony was absolutely loyal. He must be heartsick. "How about I come over and talk with him?"

"I think that would be a wonderful idea, Steve. Shall I tell Tony you're coming?"

"Umm, no, better make it a surprise, so he doesn't have a chance to 'get busy'."

Pepper sighed. "He's not just avoiding you. He's hiding from the world."

"I know. And maybe the world will let him get away with it. I'll be by within the hour. Call me if he strikes his tents."

"Will do!"

***

Steve had to peer sideways to see around the bouquet he carried in order to find the door-knocker at the mansion. He was fairly sure that it was out of respect for the established staff that Tony hadn't automated the mansion. Or out of fear- the elderly major-domo was a terror. Efficient, but scary. One of the under-butlers admitted him and tried to take the flowers.

"No, no, that's fine. Just point me in Tony's direction."

"The master is in his workshop." The under-butler started to lead Steve.

"No, really, it's all right. I know the way." He waved the flowers. "I want to surprise Tony."

The under-butler hesitated, and then she smiled slightly, which was probably breaking the butler code. "Very good, sir," she said and left Steve.

 

Steve looked in through the glass windows at the workshop. While much of the New York mansion was hand-carved dark wood and leaded glass windows, Tiffany lamps and assorted antiques, Tony had completely modernized his father's workshop, and kept it up to date. He had his back to Steve as he worked on his robot, which he must have shipped back in the cargo hold of the plane. It looked scuffed and dented. Steve knocked on the glass and then quickly brought the flowers up in front of himself again.

"What?"

"Delivery for Mr. Stark," Steve said in a mumble, trying to sound like a kid. 

"Flowers? Who... you know what, it doesn't matter, just leave them there."

"Can't do that, Mister. Gotta get your signature, or I don't get paid."

Tony sighed. "Fine. Fine." 

Steve heard the welding torch shut off, and then Tony's impatient steps, and the quiet 'whoosh' as the door opened. "Where do I sign?"

Steve lowered the bouquet. "Tony! They didn't have any flowers named Tony, so I got you Stock." He grinned at the expression on Tony's face. "Close enough."

"Yeah." Tony smiled.


	15. Chapter 15

Tony went still. "I can see the gears turning," Steve said. "You don't have to overthink everything." He shifted the flowers to one arm and reached up, slow enough that Tony could dodge if he really needed to, and laid his other hand against Tony's cheek. "Some things are simple," he said softly.

Steve felt Tony shift as he took a deep breath, but he didn't pull away. "Nothing's simple, Steve. Never was. And it's got... really complicated." He took another breath. "We can't... be like we were before. It's not... physically possible," Tony said as if admitting weakness was the worst thing in the world.

"Hey, we managed to work around my problems. We're two smart and motivated guys." He paused, and then went on; keeping this secret wouldn't help. "Captain America told me about the video. He said your chest was... well, is that the problem? Like me, with the asthma?" And how Steve wished he could tell Tony he was cured-- but Tony was too curious and too intelligent. He'd figure out the connection between Steve and Captain America and that just couldn't be allowed. It's not bad enough he'd be admitting he'd screwed up- trusted the wrong person, hadn't had proper security- for God's sake, _left_ the keys on the table-- and then clumsily injected himself. Looking like an idiot in Tony's eyes would be bad enough, but he could live with that. Worse would be feeling as if he was competing with Tony for sympathy, when Tony had obviously gone through hell and was still suffering the after-effects. But the incontrovertible reason he really couldn't tell Tony was simply that Captain America was allowed to protect Tony, but Steve wouldn't be.

Tony flinched slightly at Steve's words, and then deliberately pressed his cheek against Steve's hand. "Part of it. A large part, but not everything. If we... if we do this... you have to promise not to try to touch my chest, or to see what's under my shirts. It's...ugly."

Steve didn't want to push, so he held back the sappy, sentimental remark about Tony never being ugly to him. Tony hadn't ever been ashamed of the scars on his arms and shoulders from his work, so this wasn't just vanity speaking. "All right. Show me what's good for you, what you like now. I've missed you, Tony."

"I've missed you. God, have I missed you." Tony leaned toward Steve, just a few inches, but it was all the permission Steve needed. He leaned to meet Tony, letting the flowers get crushed between them as they kissed. For a moment he worried that would be a problem, but Tony's arms came up to hold Steve tight and their lower bodies met, and Steve knew Tony wanted this as much as he did.

Out of the corner of his eye, Steve spotted the workshop sofa. He angled his way toward it, with Tony following while they continued to kiss. The sofa bumped against the back of his legs, and he lost his balance, pulling Tony down on top of him, further mangling the flowers. Spicy sweet clove scent rose from the broken petals.

"I'm too heavy," Tony said. He felt Tony start to pull away. 

"No, it's all right, come back here, you idiot." Steve slid his hands down Tony's back to his ass. "I want you, any way I can get you."

"Oh, fuck," Tony said, while fumbling between them at his trousers, sending stock stems everywhere. After that, things were moving too fast for Steve to keep close track as they bared the most essential parts, shoving pants down just far enough to make things possible, and went at it.

Afterward the flowers were a total loss, but Steve considered the bouquet the best investment he'd ever made.

***

Sex with restrictions was more frustrating for Tony than for him, Steve thought. Tony never was one for accepting any limits while Steve had learned before puberty that he'd better lower his sights and work on having a pleasant personality because he wasn't going to attract anyone with his physique.

"You don't mind?" Tony asked one evening when they were curled up in the extravagantly large bed in the mansion bedroom Steve had come to think of as 'ours'. Tony was flushed, skin warm and damp under Steve's lazily caressing hands. Bit by bit, he'd got Tony more relaxed, more trusting, until all he wore when they had sex was a custom-made black garment rather like an extra-heavy midriff-cropped muscle tee, if anyone was crazy enough to make one with inch-thick quilted padding and wide elastic keeping it flat against his skin no matter what they did.

"Mind what?" Steve nuzzled the hair at the nape of Tony's neck. His hair stylist had been leaving it longer since the day Steve had idly commented on liking the way it waved. It was a small concession, but Steve had been flattered. Tony Stark didn't listen to too many people's opinion. Pepper, yes, Pepper could raise an eyebrow and Tony would pause and reconsider what he'd just done-- he'd probably keep doing it, but at least he would consider what she'd said. He seldom agreed with Rhodey, but he would stay and continue the argument. With most people, if Tony couldn't just override them, he'd walk out. For Steve, Tony had listened, and _remembered_ and done it to please him. 

"This." Tony brushed his fingers against what Steve refused to call his 'chastity vest'. "This is weird, isn't it?"

"Uh huh, it's weird, but it's Tony Stark weird." Steve rubbed a circle at the base of Tony's throat, just above the 'vest'. "Which means I don't mind it at all." That wasn't entirely true, Steve minded that Tony felt forced to hide behind armor. He always did, at first it was arrogance and flash, and now it was defensiveness and cloth. And Iron Man. Steve wasn't sure he trusted that robot, after all, it hadn't saved Tony from Stane. He kissed Tony again to drive the worries out of his mind. Everything would be fine. If Steve wasn't enough for Tony, then Captain America would be.

***

"Why are there so many super-villains in New York City?" Captain America mused aloud while throwing his shield to ricochet off three vaguely minotaurish creatures that had appeared on Wall Street, courtesy of someone dressed in a costume printed all over with symbols of worldwide currencies. He called himself 'the Stockbroker'. His creations were numerous, but stupid and not terribly difficult to put down, so while Steve wouldn't say he was _bored_ he could easily spare the attention to talk at the same time as fighting. Tony had given him a comm link fitted inside his helmet so he could converse with Iron Man during battles, after the second time they found each other fighting 'the forces of evil' together. Even after getting used to Jarvis, he found Iron Man's responses amazingly human. Tony had explained it by saying that it had an algorithmic learning protocol, based on the human model. 

"Statistics," Iron Man replied while blasting a berserker (yes, bearmen and bullmen, the Stockbroker liked his symbolism). "Starting with a gene pool of eight million people, you're bound to breed a few of even the rarest type of maniac."

"That's true, I suppose," Captain America leaped over a smashed car and rammed his shield into the belly of a berserker before jumping down to rip the dented door off a rental car to release a family of tourists. He guided them to the nearest shelter and resumed his conversation."But if it's just that, there should be the occasional caped megalomanic showing up in Idaho or Nebraska."

Iron Man replied, "But what's the fun of blasting Beaver Creek, Nebraska? Everyone wants to make a name for themselves in the big city." And then Iron Man twirled on his back to zap a bearoid trying to get into the subway. "HEY, no jumping the line, Yogi!" The bear collapsed with its fur on fire.

As Steve turned to grab a bull by the horns and wrestle it to the ground he said, "Don't you mean, 'Smokey'?"

Iron Man laughed. Steve didn't comment on it, but it sure _sounded_ human, metallic but human. He wondered how much of himself Tony had put into Iron Man. He wouldn't put it past Tony to somehow copy his personality traits to a machine... which didn't sound at all safe. So, yeah, something Tony would do. Steve wouldn't say he was careless, but maybe he was the slightest bit distracted, so he didn't notice that the last minotaur was different from the others, slightly larger, with an out-size head and horns twice the length of the others. Even if he had noticed, he wouldn't have been expecting the horns to shoot out some sort of ray. He caught it with his shield straight on, but the ray didn't stop, it was a physical pressure pushing him back against a brick building. Pressing him _hard_ , so hard the shield was being forced back against him. If it kept up, he'd be crushed by his own shield.

"CAP!" Steve heard Iron Man shout and then the roar of repulsors cutting in directly in front of him and the clanking _thud_ of one of Iron Man's less graceful landings. "Stay down, Cap!"

The ray glare scattered, as if it was bouncing off something irregularly shaped-- like Iron Man instead of his shield. Steve risked a step sideways and then flung the shield around Iron Man, aiming at the blurred outline of the minotaur. He missed, and his shield clattered to the ground somewhere- his eyes were too dazzled to see clearly. But he saw well enough to recognize the red and gold shape that was wrestling with the man-bull. There was a bellow, and a loud _crack_ and then the black bull fell to the pavement. The red and gold swayed unsteadily above it.

"Iron Man!" Captain America blinked, and blinked again, trying to hasten his vision clearing. He ran to the blurred figures and checked that the minotaur was dead-- neck snapped from the feel of it. Iron Man wasn't moving. How could you tell if a robot was _dead_? "Iron Man, are you all right?" He ran his hands over the metal, finding dents and scrapes, and even a place where the armor had been torn, exposing a softer inner material. His hands were damp when he touched it there... fuel? Lubricant? Hydraulic fluid? He couldn't tell, there was no strong chemical odor.

"Uhh," Iron Man said, and moved. "Yeah. All right. Repulsors didn't work on that one, so I had to go mano a mano." The robot got up, and gripped Steve's arms. "Are you all right?"

Steve blinked again, the dazzle was fading; he could see more details. "Yeah, just a few spots floating... that was bright. I'm ok." He looked down at his hands. The fluid on them was red, blood red. "Iron Man?"

"Umm. That was the last of them. I've got to go. You know. Back to the shop. Get the dents hammered out."

And before Steve could protest, Iron Man jetted up and was gone. "That... robots don't bleed."


	16. Chapter 16

"Tony." Steve pressed the buzzer at the workroom door. The glass had been darkened, as it often was when Tony was working on Iron Man. Steve had decided that it would be better if he confronted Tony than if Captain America confronted Iron Man. He wanted to see a face for this discussion, and while Tony admired Captain America they weren't intimate friends. Maybe it would be better if they were, although with Tony in his vest and Cap in his hooded mask, the bedroom farce would be ridiculous. "Tony, let me in. I promise not to steal Iron Man's jet boots. Or even the roller skates."

The glass didn't clear, but Tony's voice came over the intercom. "Hey, don't mock the roller skates! They're energy efficient!"

"They're ridiculous and you know you only created them as a joke."

"Maaaybe."

Steve leaned against the door. "Are you going to let me in?"

"It's... I'm working, hot metal, that sort of thing, it's not safe for spectators." For emphasis there was the snap and hiss of a welding torch.

"Tony. I just got through talking to Captain America. Iron Man was hurt."

"Minor dents, nothing to worry about."

Steve sighed. Tony was not going to make this easy. "I said 'hurt', not damaged. He was _bleeding_ , Tony. There's a man inside that armor, and he's injured. Now, are you going to let me in to help him, or not? You aren't medically trained, are you?"

"I could be! I have seven doctorates! I don't tell you all my secrets."

"THAT is obvious!" Steve wanted to punch the glass.

The torch sound cut off. "I'm taking care of him. Really, I do know what he needs. And what he needs most of all is not to have anyone but me see him."

"Who is he, Tony?"

"He was with me in Afghanistan. He helped me escape but he was... mutilated in the process and he needs the suit to live. He doesn't... he's _nothing_ without the suit. He hasn't even got a voice of his own."

"If he's that badly off, he shouldn't be fighting!"

"You don't understand, Steve. He's not just hiding from pity. He's... he'd done terrible things and he wants to atone. You don't think I'd give something as powerful as the Iron Man to someone who'd use it for selfish reasons, do you? Let him have the dignity of his choice."

Steve scowled at his reflection in the black glass. "Could you at least come out and talk to me, face to face?"

"No, you're too good at persuading me."

And that was it. Steve gave up after a while and left the mansion to cool off. When he returned an hour later the butler met him at the door with two sets of keys and directions to a disused wing of the mansion, where workers were busily refurbishing, refurnishing and in general remaking it. "What is all this?" he asked the butler, having a sinking feeling that he wasn't going to like the answer.

"Master Stark has given orders that apartments for you and Captain America be prepared. He directed that you should treat it as your own home." The butler indicated the keys. "Once the work is completed no one will have access without your express invitation."

Steve tightened his grip on the keys. So, this was Tony's way of saying that he hadn't pressed for details of Steve's relationship with Captain America, or tried to find out his identity, and he wanted the same for him and Iron Man. And damn, Tony had a point, if Steve insisted on meeting the man behind the Iron Mask, then it would be only reasonable for Tony to get to meet the unmasked Captain America. It just... well, on the other hand, it was a peace offering, asking Steve and Cap to move in, and he had to admit it would make things easier for him. "All right," Steve said tiredly. "Have Tony call me when the apartments are ready, would you, please? It'll take time for me and Captain America to pack our belongings." Well, it would take 'Cap' about five minutes, but it was the principle of the thing.

"Very good, sir," the butler said before escorting him out.

***

"You know, we could set up a bio lab for you here, there's plenty of room," Tony said when he finally emerged from his workshop three days later, bundled up in his 'don't touch me' clothes; whenever he layered t-shirts with different sleeve lengths Steve knew he'd shy away from even a glancing touch. He looked worn, with dark rings around his eyes, and his hair in random spikes.

"I _have_ a bio lab," Steve said grumpily. He'd come because Tony said the apartments were ready, but he'd been hoping for more of a reconciliation than that.

"Yeah, but see, this way Cap can have his privacy, but still get to hang out with you. You said he helps you in the lab."

Steve nodded. He had to explain Captain America's non-appearance outside of battles somehow. "Yeah, I'm still trying to find a cure for his metabolism problem."

"And Iron Man likes the idea of them getting together more often."

"Are you trying to set Captain America up on a date with Iron Man?"

Tony rolled his eyes. "Please. You know, spar, work on their battle tactics, get more in sync, since they're working together so often. Cut down on the misunderstandings." He held out a bag of cheesy popcorn.

Steve took a handful. "Yeah, ok, that makes sense. You want to watch a movie?"

"Sure." Tony sat next to Steve on the brown leather couch with the popcorn a little too casually set between them. "What do you want to see?"

"How about 'The Thirteenth Warrior'," Steve said.

Tony grimaced. "That? It's ridiculous. They had to hunt all over to find actors tall enough to make Antonio Banderas look like a little guy."

"I like the sets and the costumes."

"Don't be a stereotype gay, Steve! Say you like the swords and the battles!"

Steve laughed. "Ok, I like them, too."

"Fine. So long as you don't declare your love for Jar-Jar Binks, we can remain friends." Tony had Jarvis start the movie.

Steve munched popcorn and pretended to be enthralled in the movie, shushing Tony every time he made a disparaging remark about the metalwork of the armor or swords, going on into a digression about the key role of impurities in wootz steel Damascus blades which were actually made in India. Tony had to be really tired to ramble. Steve kept murmuring an encouraging word from time to time. Apparently one of Tony's degrees was in Archaeotechnology. 

Twenty minutes into the movie Tony had slumped against Steve's shoulder and fallen asleep. Steve smiled and stroked Tony's hair. He whispered, "Thanks, Antonio."


	17. Chapter 17

Iron Man sparred regularly with Captain America in the ultra-modern, fully equipped, workout room that magically appeared three days later in the way that money couldn't quite account for. Contractors liked to impress Tony Stark and they fell all over themselves whenever he let it be known he wanted something personal. He paid top dollar with bonuses for early completion but they'd have done it for free, hoping to impress and land large contracts with S.I. 

Tony never went for the low bidder on anything; he only accepted the best, and since they never knew what he was expert in (Tony pretended he knew everything, and what he didn't know he could fake with the fastest line of chatter Steve had ever heard) they assumed he'd know if they cut corners or substituted something 'just as good'. 

There had been an epic scene in the kitchen when Tony had wandered in to refill his coffee mug and saw cartons containing new Pyrex casserole dishes on the counter. Apparently glass cookware made in the U.S. is now made of soda lime silicate glass, which is less able to resist rapid changes of temperature than the original Corning Inc. pans, invented in 1915, which were borosilicate glass. The offending glassware wound up on Iron Man's target range, which Steve thought was a bit extreme, but Tony wanted to be sure that no one could be hurt by something he owned.

As it turned out, Pyrex made a really impressive mess when hit with repulsors.

***

Now that the secret of Iron Man's humanity was out, Steve made excuses to 'Cap Up' and socialize with him frequently. He supposed there must be facial scarring as well as whatever required the suit as life-support, because Iron Man wouldn't even remove his helmet to take a drink of soda after they'd been sparring. "You've got to be melting in that tin can," Captain America said as he popped the top of an Orange Crush (he didn't like it that much, but the excess sugar was a good thing, gave him a few more minutes before he'd have to theta down to plain old Steve again.)

"It's not that bad." Iron Man shrugged, which he hadn't been able to do with earlier models of the armor, Steve was fairly sure. Tony was always modifying the armor to make it stronger, faster, more flexible... flashier, but it was still metal and couldn't be comfortable. Not when you could see how close it fit. How it must be nearly touching his face. 

Tony swore that Jarvis' heads-up display was 'as good as' seeing, better than, seeing with your own eyes, and Steve tried to think of it as a knight in armor, but sometimes... sometimes when Iron Man wasn't wise-cracking, he worried about him. He could be sick... heck, he could be moments away from passing out in that thing and Steve wouldn't know. "Hang on a second, I think I saw something in the 'fridge." He rummaged around and came up with a juice box, with attached bendy straw. He popped the straw into the box and held it out. "Come on, you're not afraid you'll rust, are you?"

Iron Man huffed a short laugh and accepted the juice, guiding the straw in through the mouth-slot of the armor. 

Steve felt a little better, seeing the juice disappearing. At least Iron Man had a mouth, and lips, but no one to kiss. Poor guy.

***

"Tony," Captain America said with great patience, at least he felt it was a darn good try at it for a person who was standing bare-chested with arms outstretched while someone measured his chest. Repeatedly. "I do not need another suit. And I particularly do not need _enhancements_. Mr. Rogers warned me about the jet-propelled roller skates."

"Oh, come on, what are you afraid of? No one is going to mock Captain America when he rolls past on the expressway at two hundred m.p.h." 

"TWO HUNDRED? TONY, NO!" He could see himself as a red, white, and blue splat on a trucker's windshield.

"Sheesh, tone it down, Capslock. And hey, why am I Tony, and Steve is Mr. Rogers? Where's my respect?" Tony looked up. He had the tape measure still wrapped around Captain America's chest and was leaning in so close his warm breath was making Steve's nipples perk up. Which Tony's side-eye glances showed he'd noticed.

Steve considered saying 'Mr. Rogers doesn't grope me', but then Tony might _stop_. Captain America liked Tony's touch too much to drive him away. After all, when he was Capped Up, _everything_ was enhanced, including his nervous system, and he loved walking the line of arousal as far as he could go without tripping over the edge. He didn't dare risk orgasm in this state. What if post-orgasm sleep wasn't the same as theta? The Little Death wasn't worth risking the Big Death. So all he did was grin down at Tony. "I promise, I'll still respect you in the morning, Tony." Tony flirted with him, of course he did, Tony flirted with his _own_ computer programs for heaven's sake. It was just his way of being friendly, and didn't mean anything.

Tony laughed. "That one's so old, I'm gonna have to call you Capricorny." And then Tony slapped him on the butt and walked away with the tape measure looped over his neck. As if Steve didn't know Tony could map him down to millimeters using a blue-line projection. Tony... huh... Tony had always been a very tactile person, but ever since he got back from Afghanistan he wasn't easy about touch... not just his chest, although that's the absolute off-limits zone... he was wary, cautious of being handed things, on edge, on 'stage', when people he didn't know were close enough to touch.

But he didn't mind touching Captain America, and if Captain America reached out to him, Tony didn't do that 'bracing himself' action, head up just that bit too high, eyes just that bit too defensive-- when they're not hidden behind sunglasses. He was easy around Captain America. He trusted him even though he knew Captain America could break him like a twig. 

There was a thought. Maybe he trusted him _because_ Captain America could break _anyone_ who tried to hurt Tony. Huh.

***

Steve was in the library, reading _The Daughter of Time_ when Iron Man entered the room. "Hey," he said, sitting up and putting the mystery aside, "if you're looking for Tony, he said he'd be working in the shop all night." 

"I know," Iron Man said. He picked up the book, and then laid it back down. "You like mysteries?"

"Sure, doesn't everyone?" Steve said politely. He was wondering what Iron Man wanted. He didn't often roam about the mansion outside of the workout room and presumably the private quarters Tony had made for him.

Iron Man tilted his head in a 'eh, so so' gesture he must have picked up from Tony. Or maybe Tony had just made the response in the armor to suit some internal signal. Steve never felt comfortable asking questions about the armor once he knew there was a man in it. It'd be too much like the way some people had asked about his asthma, not really concerned what it meant to him, just 'oh, that's interesting'. He cared about Iron Man, personally. Whatever he looked like inside the armor, whatever made him hide away from people, hadn't made Iron Man stop caring about people, and that was what made a good man, someone Steve wanted to get to know better.

"Would you like a drink?" There was a small bar in the library, and Steve thought he remembered seeing some stirrer-straws there.

"Yes, I would." Iron Man shifted awkwardly and then settled on one of the sturdier-looking chairs, which creaked, but held. "Whatever you're having."

"Calvados?" Steve picked up a bottle. "Grand Pommier... Great Apple Tree, I suppose."

Iron Man nodded and accepted a glass. He looked at the straw for a moment. "This is an insult to a fine brandy."

"I'm sure it won't mind." Steve sat down with his own glass and sipped. He could handle liquor better now than he used to, but he still was literally a lightweight. They drank in a companionable silence for a few minutes, then Iron Man indicated the book Steve had been reading.

"What's that about?"

"A detective stuck in the hospital with a broken leg tries to solve the mystery of the Princes in the Tower. Their uncle, Richard III, was commonly considered to have murdered them to secure his position on the throne. The detective saw a portrait of Richard and felt that wasn't the face of a murderer. So he set out to prove Richard's innocence to his satisfaction."

Iron Man shook his head. "I think I like Sherlock Holmes better." Iron Man tapped his metal fingers against his helmet. "He didn't care whether you had a pretty face, he judged you on what you'd done."

Steve nodded and said what he'd been thinking, "Behind that mask, I know there's a good man, no matter what you look like."

Iron Man stood up abruptly, putting his half-finished glass down with a clunk on the nearby table. "You don't know me at all, Mr. Rogers. You don't know what I've done. The people who've suffered and died because of me."

Steve tilted his head to meet the glowing eyeslits in Iron Man's helmet. "I know that you sincerely repent, and you constantly atone. Surely, if anyone deserves forgiveness, you do."

"I don't... I'm not trying to buy forgiveness. It's just... this is what I can do. Nothing makes up for the past. Nothing. Good night, Mr. Rogers." 

After Iron Man left, Steve wondered why he'd come to the library, obviously wanting to talk, and then... said nothing.


	18. Chapter 18

Steve wasn't sure at what point moving into Tony's mansion had changed from a gesture of convenience and become 'my home' but when his forwarded mail came, he found himself sitting in the main living room looking at the address of his apartment for a long time before he asked Jarvis for the number of a reputable realtor who handled sublets. Tony came in while he was on the phone discussing the contract and methods of locating a trustworthy tenant. Tony, being Tony, shamelessly eavesdropped, and then started waving at Steve until he was so distracted he had to ask Mrs. Murphy to please hold on a moment, before he turned to Tony. "What is it?"

"This is about your apartment?"

Steve nodded. "Yeah, I thought... well, it seems a shame to leave it empty while I'm here." Steve felt a little embarrassed for assuming that he'd be staying in the mansion permanently. "Living in your home. That is, if I'm staying here."

"I have vacant houses all over the world," Tony commented. "It's not a big deal."

Steve gave Tony a look of mild disapproval. "But this is your _home._ "

Tony blinked. "Huh. I guess it is, now. Mi casa es su casa." Tony went on in a rush, "Why don't you just sell the apartment? Wouldn't it be simpler than trying to sublet?" He stuck his hands in his pockets and did a terrible job of looking casual.

"Yeah." Steve considered it. He'd been thinking so long as he was subletting he still technically had a place of his own, an emotional buffer against the possibility of an argument with Tony leading to him being out on the street. Not that he'd be really out on the street. He could buy mansions of his own, if he'd cared to-- he just never saw the point in rattling around in a huge house. It would have been worse than pointless, it would have made it seem like he was compensating for his own size. Even when he was Capped Up, inside he was still the guy people's gaze went past. Well, most people. Bucky saw him, and so did Tony. And Tony wasn't offering him a room, or even a bed, he was offering a home, as graceless and awkwardly as he phrased it. "You're right, why not? It's not as if I'm emotionally attached to the place." Steve picked up the phone again and pretended not to notice Tony's grin as he told Mrs. Murphy he'd changed his mind and wanted to list it for sale.

***

"Tony?" Steve paused outside the work shop door. The glass was currently transparent, which usually meant that Tony didn't mind interruptions. Iron Man was holding something that looked both complicated and heavy while Tony poked at it with long-handled manipulators. Tony and Iron Man both turned their heads when he opened the door and entered the shop. 

"Yeah, Steve?" Tony said, before he turned back to Iron Man, "A bit more to the right," he said. Iron Man shifted the machine. "MY right... oh, never mind. Just put it down."

Iron Man dropped the machine with a thump. Tony rolled his eyes. "Thanks." He wiped his hands on a shop rag and sat on the machine. "So, what's up, Steve?"

"Jarvis said you wanted to see me." Steve glanced at Iron Man. "I didn't mean to interrupt."

"No, it's fine. He helps me sometimes, you know." Tony tossed the rag into a bin and got up. "Hey, Iron Man, do you mind holding down the fort while Steve and I talk?"

Iron Man nodded and stayed where he was while Tony led Steve back to the living room. Steve stayed silent with some difficulty, but when Tony went to offer him a drink, Steve waved it away. "Why couldn't we talk in front of Iron Man?"

Tony made a face and rubbed the back of his neck. "I didn't want to upset him. You know that light in his chest..."

"Yes, what about it? That powers the suit, right?"

"Yeah, and... it keeps him alive, but there's a little problem with it." Tony scowled. "It uses palladium."

"Palladium... what method do you use to isolate it from his system?"

"None. I... it can't be isolated. Not and still power the suit."

"The hell with the suit! What about the man inside it?"

"You don't understand. He's nothing without the suit. He'd rather die of poisoning with it, and spend his last days being...useful, than limp along with, oh, say, a car battery tethered to his chest, unable to do _anything_ for anyone."

"A car battery." Steve stared at Tony. "You didn't just pull that example from a hat."

"No." Tony poured himself a Scotch and knocked back most of it in one gulp. "I've been working to try to find a substitute for palladium." Tony huffed a short laugh. "I thought I was so much smarter than my old man. He made the original version of the arc reactor- a huge and inefficient beast powering my main factory. I miniaturized it, made it cost-effective, made it a slow death. Hooray for me."

Steve frowned, mind racing as he considered the problem. "You're not a doctor, Tony. I don't care how much you've read, you work with machines, not living creatures. You could be overlooking something."

Tony shrugged in acknowledgment. "That's why I'm telling you this. I'm hoping you have a different perspective."

"I might. First thing, do you have your father's records? Maybe he had tried something else before settling on palladium, something that was perhaps less effective, or too expensive, or simply too difficult to get, but would be less toxic?"

"That... that's an idea. I was at school when my parents died; Obie..." Tony grimaced. "Obie packed up all the personal effects, including my father's old notebooks and stored them in the basement."

"Well, let's go look in the basement!" Steve started out of the room and then paused. "Should we get Iron Man to come with us?"

"No, he's too heavy for those old stairs. I never go down there, so it's not been renovated. I'm not even sure the lights still work."

***

Steve was glad his asthma was cured. They raised a lot of dust shifting boxes and moving cloth draped over mounds of esoteric equipment, the light from their flashlights making eerie dust specks swirling and glowing like beta particles in a cloud chamber. Tony paused when he dropped a box and a particularly dense cloud erupted, making him cough. "Are you all right with this, Steve?" he asked once he'd finished coughing.

"Yeah. I guess it's not moldy dust. It's not bothering me." Steve felt bad enough that he couldn't carry as much as Tony, or even shift the larger crates at all, but at least he could stay here and keep his eyes open, and keep Tony on track.

"Ok, but let me know if it does." Tony moved another cloth. "Huh. Would you look at that."

"What is it? A model train?" 

"Close. Model of the Stark Expo." Tony looked at the model. "Dad never did get his flying cars to work. I was so disappointed." He gave the model a nudge, and it shifted, nearly falling off the shelf. Tony grabbed at it and caught it, but not before Steve saw something small drop from beneath. He shone his flashlight on it. It was a piece of paper, age-browned and grimy. Out of habit, Steve picked it up. He was going to place it on the shelf next to the model when he noticed it was an envelope, addressed to Tony. 

"Hey, Tony, this has your name on it." He passed the envelope over.

Tony opened the envelope and pulled out a single sheet of paper. "That's weird. This is dated a month before the Expo opened, but he's written it to me."

"Well, sure, it's got your name on it."

"No, I mean... adult me. Me after I solved the miniaturization problem with the arc reactor." Tony looked up from the paper to meet Steve's eyes. "He says there's more answers here if I look hard enough; answers to problems he couldn't solve because the technology of the time wasn't up to it."

"Look hard enough at what, the model?"

"I guess so." Tony shoved the paper back in the envelope and laid it on top of the model. "Never get that upstairs in one piece... it must come apart."

Steve began looking the model over for seams or joins. "If your father had an alternate for palladium, why didn't he just write it down on that note?"

Tony shrugged as he tugged on the model, and it separated cleanly into several boards. "Maybe he was smarter than I am, and didn't trust anyone, not even Obi." He stopped moving for a moment. "Maybe the car accident that killed him and my mother wasn't an accident. Maybe." 

"I'm sorry."

Tony shook his head. "Doesn't matter. Obi's dead now. It's over."

Steve held both flashlights as Tony went up the stairs with pieces of the model. He remembered killing Stane. It had bothered him even though it was an accident while preventing the man from killing Tony and Pepper, but still, Stane had been the first person he'd killed. Maybe it would bother him less now. He hoped it wouldn't. People's lives should always count, you should always regret killing, even if it was necessary.


	19. Chapter 19

Steve had never actually worked with Tony before. It was... a learning experience. He was used to outlining a plan of attack, choosing the most likely one and meticulously examining and testing every facet before noting the results, and then going on to the next most promising. He wasn't used to his co-worker pulling a blueprint for the structure of an atom from a _model_ of a world's fair, and then mainlining coffee, sledge-hammering walls, and putting together...without a diagram or so much as a t-square and tape measure... putting together something Steve was fairly sure the residential district wasn't zoned for. "Tony, can you build a proton accelerator in the middle of New York City?" 

"Uh, huh," Tony said. 

"Is it safe?"

"Depends on the size." Tony's robots moved to get out of the way as chunks of wall flew. Steve couldn't help with that, of course. Captain America could, but Tony had declared this a very delicate, precise job, far beyond Cap's abilities or Iron Man's dexterity. Steve figured it was more likely that he didn't want to let too many people in on his secrets. 

"One this size?" Steve didn't think much of Tony's safety precautions. Goggles and gloves, for cryin' out loud. And half the time he forgot the gloves.

"Maybe." Another chunk of wall vanished, and Tony dropped the hammer and picked up a pair of insulated cutters. "But that's totally not relevant." He climbed on top of a table, and peered at the hole in the wall, eyeballing it through a circle he made of thumb and forefinger, before hopping down. "Gotta go hook into the main power conduit. Just be a minute."

"Tony! Why isn't it relevant?" Steve said in exasperation as he followed Tony up the stairs. For whatever reason, he'd decided to build this monstrosity in the basement, and had flung up light bars on the walls at random intervals.

"It's not a proton accelerator." Tony reached the house mains and started shutting things off. The house went quiet and still, only the whines of a few emergency backups powering up to cut the silence. The staff had been given a holiday, which meant that Steve at least didn't worry about Tony electrocuting an employee. Just himself and Steve.

"You told me it was an accelerator!"

"Is." Tony started cutting into the power lines at what sure looked like random. Steve sincerely hoped Tony was actually thinking about what he was doing, but he sure couldn't tell by looking at him.

"Then?" 

"Uh huh," Tony said, and proceeded to totally ignore Steve, until he gave up and walked away. 

Steve returned ten minutes later with a pot of coffee he'd made on the gas stove. Tony stopped prying open crates and turned to Steve, grinning. "Gimme." 

Steve considered holding back the coffee until he got some answers, but he decided that way led to disaster. He put the coffee down in a relatively clear spot on a table too far away from the action for Tony to continue working one handed. Tony came over and got the coffee. "Thanks." He raked his free hand through his hair, making him look like a hedgehog.

"So, when is an accelerator not a proton accelerator?"

"When it's a photon accelerator. Subtle difference in words. Big difference in performance. Especially with my secret recipe of eleven different herbs and spices." Tony tossed back the rest of the coffee and returned to work. 

"Isn't there anything I can do to help?" Steve hated this, standing by and being useless. He'd had a childhood full of looking out the window, wistfully watching other people going about their business. 

"Sure. Um... this has to be level. About yay high from the floor." Tony was hooking up what looked like hi-tech ducting and shoving it through the wall. Steve couldn't imagine anything less like a scientific method. 'Yay high', indeed. "Get stuff from the shelves to pile up. Anything."

"Wouldn't it be better to measure and build proper supports?" Steve looked around at the basement full of... stuff. A lot of books, boxes, assorted containers, and in general... junk.

"Nah. This'll be fine. Trust me."

"That's the problem," Steve grumbled as he began pulling boxes off the shelves and loading them up with books. He tried not to look at the books, but he couldn't resist putting aside an original 1903 edition of Howard Pyle's _The Story of King Arthur and His Knights_. "I do trust you."

Tony paused for a moment and looked at Steve. He said softly, "Maybe you shouldn't."

"Is this going to blow up?"

Tony laughed. "No, it's perfectly safe!"

***

"Put on these goggles," Tony said, tossing a spare pair of tinted goggles at Steve once the contraption was done to Tony's satisfaction and the house power had been restored (Jarvis had sounded annoyed at being shut down, even temporarily). It hadn't taken much to satisfy Tony, parts of the circle were held down with bungee cord strapped to cases of wine, stacks of books, the odd engine, and even a Ruby iMac turned terrarium. "Thunderbirds are go!" And then he rolled up his sleeves, which distracted Steve from the insanity. He really, really loved Tony's arms, and hadn't seen much of them lately, due to Tony's triple layering of shirts. Whatever horrors Tony was hiding under those shirts, there wasn't anything wrong with his arms. Steve stepped back out of the way.

"Tony. I want you to know one thing before you do this." What if it went wrong, and Steve was killed? That would be a rotten way for Tony to learn about Captain America.

"Yes?" Tony turned to look at him.

"I..." But if he told Tony now and it upset him, then that might _make_ something go wrong, "I really hate your omelets. Let's go out for dinner when this is done."

Tony grinned. "You've got it. Hit the switch." 

Steve obeyed. A light flashed out and burned right through a shelf. "Hey! Is it supposed to do that?"

"It's FINE!" Tony shouted and put his muscular arms to work, forcing a wheel around, by hand at first, and then with a heavy wrench. The light, a laser, Steve guessed, kept moving until it hit the tiny triangle of... metal? Tubing? Steve couldn't figure it out. Everything rattled, the noise was incredible. The smell of burning wood, metal, plastics, all mingled with the sharpness of Tony's sweat; he'd soaked through his shirts, but refused to peel off even one. The way the wrench trembled in his hands and his muscles jumped told Steve how much force he was fighting.

The triangle began to glow. It brightened, and Tony blinked, looking surprised. "Well, that was easy. Cut the power, Steve."

Steve hit the switch and then followed Tony to peer curiously at the little triangle. "That's it? All that fuss for that?"

"This," Tony said, as he used forceps to pick up the triangle and place it into a round device that snapped around it and took up the glow, "is a new element. And more important, it's a new life for Iron Man. You get ready for dinner, I'll give it to him."

"Are you sure? Maybe we should run some tests first?"

"No!" Tony snapped so sharply that Steve took a couple steps back. "Sorry. You're right. Jarvis, run compatibility and toxicity tests on this, will you?" Tony stared at the glowing device. "If it works, I'll make more."

"Why? Iron Man only needs one," Steve said. He had got the distinct impression that Tony had been expecting even more destruction, and he didn't really like pressing his luck. Well, Tony's luck.

"It can power other things besides Iron Man. Useful things. It's... clean energy. The world needs that, now more than ever. I could do a lot with this. You have no idea."

"You have enough ideas for both of us." Steve wrinkled his nose. "And enough manly aroma. Come on, shower and get human, and then I'll treat you. Whatever you want."

"Nathan's chili-cheese dog and beer-battered onion rings."

"You're a cheap date, Tony. Tell you what, I'll even throw in dessert." Steve moved close and put an arm around Tony's waist, and they went up the stairs together.


	20. Chapter 20

At dinner Tony was more relaxed than he'd been in a long time, despite the crowd and the chatter around them at Nathan's. He'd even got out of the t-shirts. He was still wearing three layers, but the dark brown jacket over a matching vest and plum colored shirt made Steve feel like they were on a date, as if Tony wanted to look good for him. He reached across the table to take Tony's hand. "So, now that you've finished that project, what's next? Take a few days off?" He rubbed his thumb across the back of Tony's hand, tracing the bumps of scars. "We could go somewhere, just the two of us."

"I don't think I'd be very good company." Tony picked up his chili dog with his other hand and took a bite. 

"I know you feel responsible for Iron Man, Tony, but he's a grown man. Once you give him this... element, he'll be healthy, right? He won't need you to hold his hand every minute." Steve felt for Iron Man, he really did, but he didn't think this codependent relationship was good for either of them. 

"He'll never be really healthy, Steve. Never have a normal life." Tony toyed with an onion ring. "We're pretty much joined at the hip for the foreseeable future."

Huh. Steve was jealous of a poor soul trapped in the equivalent of a weaponized Iron Lung. That wasn't nice, but at least he was being honest with himself. "Literally? I mean..."

Tony stared at Steve in blank confusion for a moment and then he threw his head back and laughed. "God, no, Steve, I am not cheating on you with Iron Man." He grinned. "Not that I don't find him a fascinating individual, but," he said in a teasing tone. "he's not as pretty as the Captain."

Steve tossed an onion ring at him. "The Captain is not pretty."

"Gorgeous, then. You could bounce a twenty dollar gold piece off that ass. Wanna try? For science? I've got a few double eagles I kept for luck."

"Tony, no." People were starting to look at them. Steve was blushing, he just knew it. He felt his hand turn and Tony's fingers interlaced between them.

"I know things are weird," Tony said, "really weird, with the whole support service for super-heroes thing we've got going. But it's not such a terrible weird, is it? I mean, you and Cap are still with me, aren't you?"

"Yeah. You're stuck with us." Steve tightened his grip on Tony's hand. He didn't mind scars. They were the record of survival.

***

After the conversation in Nathan's Steve began to wonder not only if Tony was attracted to Captain America, but if maybe the Captain was what Tony needed. Maybe he'd be less paranoid and defensive if his boyfriend was able to defend him physically even when they were naked (well, mostly naked, he'd have to keep his hood on) in bed together. Of course there was the little problem that he wasn't entirely sure Captain America could survive orgasm. He puzzled this over for quite a while. He could ask Jarvis to try to wake him if he fell asleep, but what if that didn't work? Steve didn't know what post-orgasm sleep was like for Cap, but he knew it often hit him as Steve really hard and really fast, like being run over by a train.

As Cap his metabolism was so fast caffeine didn't affect him any more than alcohol did, so popping a handful of No-Doz wouldn't make any difference. He'd really need someone who could shake him awake if necessary. Someone strong. Someone who wouldn't tell anyone that Captain America was afraid he'd die if he orgasmed. It wasn't just upholding the image of Captain America as this pure and shining hero (although that did come in handy when he needed to get cooperation from the authorities), but with all the nutjob villains around, who's to say one of them wouldn't invent sex-pollen given the motivation? Look what happened to Superman with Kryptonite suddenly popping up in every color in the rainbow.

There was really only one person he could ask to help him. He came upon Iron Man one day in the library, sitting in his usual chair and leafing through a book with more dexterity than he thought possible for metal joints. "Iron Man," Captain America said as he entered the room and went over to one of the bookcases on the far wall, pretending he was looking for a mystery he hadn't read, but mostly he was hiding his face while he tried to figure out how to broach the subject.

"Captain," Iron Man said politely.

Steve grabbed a book at random and turned abruptly. Iron Man moved his head sharply, and for a moment, Steve had the impression that Iron Man had been checking out his ass. That seemed as good a sign as any, even if he was just imagining it. "I was wondering if you'd mind doing me a favor."

"Of course, Captain. What do you need?"

"It's personal. Please, feel free to refuse. I wouldn't ask you, but... there really isn't anyone else I could trust."

"Not even Mr. Rogers?"

Steve coughed, trying to cover up his embarrassment. "No. No, I really couldn't. He's... done a lot for me already."

Iron Man nodded. "I understand. I couldn't ask Mr. Stark for anything, either. So, what can I do for you?"

Maybe saying it fast would help. "I need you to watch me while I jerk off, and make sure I don't fall asleep, because I might die."

Iron Man's helmet stayed aimed at him for a long count of at least five seconds, before the computerized copy of Tony Stark's voice said, "What?"

"My metabolism... it's strange. I'm all right when I go to sleep normally, but I have to... I suppose the word is... meditate, or else I could starve to death in my sleep."

"And you're the kind who falls asleep on orgasm?"

"Pretty much." Steve shrugged. "I feel kinda selfish asking you to help me... I mean... can you even... um... sorry, I didn't mean to ask that."

"No, no, you've put yourself out there, why not ask me. I can't while I'm fully in the suit, but most of it can come off."

"Oh. Well, you know, we could help each other?" Steve feels like he's a kid sneaking behind the bleachers with Bucky again.

"I don't think that would be a good idea." Iron Man's mechanized voice was even more toneless than usual. "You're... perfect. I'm not."

"Scars don't bother me."

"Well, they bother _me_." Iron Man tilted his helmet. "And there's... someone else."

"There is?" Steve was confused. "But I thought you couldn't."

"I can't, not really. But he's ridiculously optimistic, and loyal."

Steve nodded. "Yes. I have someone like that, too. He's... never touched this body, but still... it feels a little like betraying him."

Iron Man was silent for a while again. Steve felt awkward but didn't know how to end the conversation. Iron Man shifted his stance slightly at last and spoke, "You know, while we never discussed it, I'm pretty sure I could invoke the one free pass rule for you. I mean... if you can't claim Captain America as your irresistible fantasy, who can you claim? And it's not as if we're going to touch each other."

Steve blinked and thought about it. Tony would understand, wouldn't he? "I'd put Iron Man up against Captain America as a sex fantasy figure any day."

Iron Man laughed and stood up. "It sounds as though we're agreed. Let's go."

***

Steve had time for second, third, and fourth thoughts before they reached his bedroom. Finally he stopped before his door and used his best Captain America voice to say, "This just doesn't seem fair to you."

"You'd be surprised. Think of it this way, Captain. This is as close to touching another person as I can get. Something for me to remember."

"Remember." Captain America's mind is pretty darn sharp, too. "Remember, as in record? You can do that with the suit, Tony told me."

Iron Man spread his arms. "I won't if you don't want me to do it, but... it would help me. When I'm not in the suit."

"Huh." Steve found that he didn't mind the idea at all, although now he was imagining Iron Man using his metal encased hands on _him_. Would the metal be cool or warm? "Well, sure you can record me. I trust you not to put me on YouTube." He opened the door and went in.

"Never," Iron Man said as he followed Captain America into the room, shutting and locking it behind him. "Can I talk to you? Or shall I just watch?"

Steve felt his breath catch as something in Iron Man's voice transcended the machinery, let him hear some of the honest hunger of the man behind the armor. "Please. I'd like you to talk to me. Tell me what to do to myself."

"Would you? Would you do just as I say, nothing except what I say?"

The crotch of the Captain America suit was suddenly uncomfortably tight. "Anything except take off my hood. It's not that I don't trust you, but... I don't think I could do it, without the mask."

Iron Man nodded. "That sounds fair." His voice softened and lowered. "I want you to take everything else off, Captain. Slowly. And then I want you to turn around and let me see you, see all of you."

Steve's throat closed up, dry as dust. He had to try a couple times before he could speak. "Yes, sir." He started taking off his gloves.

"Slowly, I said!" Iron Man sat in one of the ridiculously strong chairs Tony had supplied Captain America. "I want to enjoy the show."


	21. Chapter 21

Steve felt a bit silly at first. He wasn't a strip-tease artist, and most of the time when he'd had sex with anyone, getting your clothes off fast was the whole point. He took the gloves off and laid them on the dresser.

"Let me see your hands," Iron Man said. "Come here." When Steve obeyed, Iron Man's helmet tilted and the glowing light where eyes should be bathed his hands. He wondered if Iron Man was scanning them. "You have no calluses, Captain. Such big, smooth hands. They must be very sensitive."

Steve swallowed, he could hear it loud in his own ears. What it sounded like to Iron Man with all his sensors, he couldn't guess. "They are. It's a nuisance, sometimes. I can't toughen my knuckles, for one thing."

"Mmm, but they feel good on your body, don't they? Take off your shirt and touch yourself. Run those smooth hands over your chest. I want to see that."

Steve opened the fastener across his chest. Iron Man moved, raising one hand imperiously, and Steve took the hint. He opened just the flap, pushing the armor stiff fabric aside just enough to reach his right hand in and glide it over his pectoral muscles. He imagined Iron Man's eyes behind the mask, what color would they be? Sky blue, sea green, mist gray or earth brown? He didn't know anything about Iron Man, beyond the fact that he'd been a fellow prisoner with Tony in Afghanistan. Green, he'd go with green eyes, a sultry forest-shaded gray green, set in an angular face, pale from living encased in the suit. Those eyes were watching him. He teased himself, shifting to arch his back as he undid more fastenings on the shirt, letting the flap hang loose, hiding and revealing his hairless chest with each deep breath.

"Yes," Iron Man said. "Are your nipples sensitive, too? Do you like to pinch and roll them between your fingers? Do that for me."

Steve pushed his shirt open even further, letting it fall back to hang off his shoulders, bunching around his upper arms. It restricted his movement, but he didn't fight it. He reached up to play with his nipples, and let his head fall back as he concentrated on the feeling. It was such a little thing, but he was half-hard already.

Iron Man shifted; Steve heard the whine and click of his armor. "Do you like what you see?" he asked softly.

"Very much. You're perfect, Captain, just as I'd imagined you. Well... so far. Get rid of the shirt, and turn around for me."

Steve smiled as he obeyed, casually flexing his arms to bring out the definition in his back. 

"Niiice. Very nice, indeed. Do you work out a lot, Captain? I mean, we spar, but I always get the feeling that's not work."

"It's not." Steve continued turning until he was facing Iron Man again. "That's fun." He lifted his arms above his head and stretched, taking a deep breath to inflate his chest. Yes, he was showing off. "We're not trying to hurt each other. It's a little like dancing."

Iron Man laughed. "If dancing involved body slams, immobilization holds and leg sweeps."

"Well, it could. Extreme dancing. I'm sure it would appeal to some people." Iron Man hadn't said to take off anything else, and Steve was beginning to really want his pants off, or at least opened. "I work out sometimes, to stay flexible, but I don't need to do it to maintain muscle mass."

"So, you only sweat for fun. Good to know. You're sweating now. Sit down and take off your boots, socks, too."

"Are you enjoying this? I mean... " Steve said as he sat down and began removing his boots. His arousal was obvious, even despite the barely giving material of his uniform. "You can _see_ what you're doing to me." He may have sounded a bit more petulant than was appropriate for Captain America.

"Oh, hell, yes. In the field you're all orders, which, don't get me wrong, that's sexy, too. But this...Captain America at my beck and call? Yeah, it's a tight fit in my suit right now. And that's fine. Sometimes I like a little pain. So long as it's my choice."

"Oh, ok." Steve thought they were straying close to talking about Afghanistan, and he really didn't want to spoil things by making Iron Man think about that. He got his socks off and wriggled his toes.

"Damn, even your feet are perfect and I don't even have a foot fetish. Take off the rest, Cap. Make it a show for me. Pretend those are my hands on you, stripping you bare before I show you what it's really like to fly with Iron Man. Yeah. That's it."

Steve eased the pants off over his erection, inhaling sharply as he was finally freed. At the last he gave way to impatience and kicked off the trousers, standing spread-legged and hovering his hands close to his dick, fractionally away from it. He could obey orders, sometimes, if he respected the one giving them. 

"Touch yourself. I want to see what you like. Start out with a finger, just going around the head. Use your other hand on your balls. Roll them. Squeeze them."

"Yes, sir," Steve replied as he obeyed. He closed his eyes and let his head go back again, baring his throat, making himself even more vulnerable to the green gaze behind Iron Man's helmet. He heard metal creak. Iron Man was shifting in his seat. "You have great hands." 

"I'd hold you tighter than that."

Steve increased his grip.

"Stroke yourself. Faster."

Steve obeyed. He kept his eyes closed, listening to that metallic voice and seeing a hungry man behind the mask. 

"So fucking beautiful. The only way you'd be a prettier sight would be if you were under me, with my cock up your ass."

"Oh, yeah." Steve pumped harder. His ass clenched as he thought of it. "I'd like that." He moaned and spread his legs further apart.

"I'd ride you... until you screamed." Iron Man doesn't sound out of breath, he can't, there's hardly any intonation to his voice, but there are gaps between words. "Oh, fuck, it hurts, Captain... it hurts."

Crammed in that metal suit, if he was half as aroused as Steve was, it would have to be uncomfortable. "Want... me to... stop?" He could. Sure he could. He was Captain America, he could control himself. Maybe.

"Fuck, no! Do it harder, Cap! I need to see you come."

"Yes!" He was close, so close, and Iron Man was still talking, but he wasn't listening any longer, and then he went over the edge, shuddering as everything happened at once, muscles clenching, shouting and falling to his knees, both hands warm and sticky wet. He let his head tip forward, eyes still shut, falling into that place where everything spins slowly to a halt, and it was like lying down in lush grass and letting the earth take your weight. The earth was strong enough to take all the responsibility from his shoulders. He was so close now, he just let himself slump over onto his side, letting his arms and legs go where they would.

"Cap?"

No, it was warm and his muscles were all relaxed. Let it go.

"CAPTAIN!"

And then his arms were gripped and he was being shaken, hard. He jerked back, hands up to defend himself, reaching out for his shield, before he remembered. "Oh." 

Iron Man was sprawled back on his metal ass, hands up and repulsors alight. "You're not kidding, you do fall asleep fast." He turned his wrists and the repulsors dimmed with a soft whine.

"Yeah." Steve sighed. "I was afraid that was going to happen." And he hadn't gone anywhere near theta.

"Are you all right?"

"I'm fine." Steve would apologize for knocking Iron Man down, but he knew how prickly and proud Iron Man was, never wanting to admit he could be hurt. "It was a good thing you were here to wake me. Thank you." He stood up and considered offering Iron Man a hand up, but neither of his were clean.

"No need to thank me." It wasn't as graceful as usual, but Iron Man got up from the floor, and patted Steve on the back. The metal felt cool, except for the circle of repulsor which was warm. "So, you know, we could do that again some time. Maybe a little different. I don't know." 

"I wish I could touch you," Steve said. 

"Not everything in the world is fair." Iron Man shifted. "I think I'll go now... take care of myself."

Steve nodded and watched Iron Man leave. Once he was out of earshot, Steve said softly, "I'd just like to touch you."


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for delay, I captured Natasha and took her to be sterilized, and have had her locked up to recover, at first in a spare bathroom and then into the guest room adjoining once I decided I could trust her not to destroy it. I keep going in to stroke her and talk to her because I feel bad that she's had her freedom restricted for the first time in her life. I was used to her leaving dead bodies on my doorstep frequently, so I know she misses killing things. Anyway, that's mainly why I haven't been writing.

Steve noticed that Tony spent more time locked in the workshop with Iron Man after that. It seemed that every time he went down to try to pry Tony out to go out to dinner, or even for a walk around the estate grounds Tony was too busy with upgrades or tests or refits or experiments- and they all required Iron Man's presence. At first he accepted it, because Tony had always had fits of workaholism, but after a week of 'sorry, Steve', he began to wonder what was going on. Iron Man wouldn't have told Tony about having sort of sex with Captain America, but the timing was awfully suspicious. Iron Man had seemed all right with it; he'd even suggested they do it again.

But Captain America wasn't having any better luck with Iron Man. They'd gone out on brief missions twice during the week, and Iron Man had fought as perfectly in sync with him as ever, but there hadn't been any joking and when Captain America had hinted at a little after mission relaxation... well... dead silence over the comm followed by feeble excuses was enough of a hint. And honestly, he could have only meant a game of chess; they'd played before. Now everything was awkward. Iron Man acted like he didn't want to be alone with Captain America.

He had a horrible thought; maybe Iron Man had got all worked up, but when he left Steve he hadn't been able to achieve completion? What if he hadn't known he was impotent? On top of whatever other scars the man had, that would have been... yeah...It would make sense that he wouldn't want to be near Cap for a while. Tony was protective of him and would have given him shelter against Captain America, without even asking why. Steve hoped that wasn't the problem, but something was, and since he couldn't get Tony or Iron Man to talk to him, he was just left to think in circles and feel indefinably guilty. Maybe he was imagining it. 

Maybe there was some other reason that Tony and Iron Man were acting the way they were. Something simple. Or something that started out simple before Tony complicated it. But he can't ask. If Tony wanted him to know, he'd have told him.

***

When Tony went away on a week-long business trip to Washington, D.C. Steve was disappointed, but not surprised, that his hesitant offer to accompany Tony was met with, "Oh, no, you'd just be bored. Talking to senators is worse than watching paint dry."

Iron Man had stayed behind, but he stayed in his quarters. Steve didn't bother knocking on the door. He had enough rebuffs lately, he was just going to be patient and wait for one or the other of them to break down and tell him or Captain America what was going on, and let him try to help resolve whatever the heck was wrong. Besides, he had his own affairs to tend, he wasn't sitting around all day moping. He still had hopes of getting something useful from the serum. If he could come up with a limited life variant, something where a dose would wear off after an hour or so, that would be workable. You could administer it only to patients with sufficient resources to withstand the demands it makes while healing, so it wouldn't be much use for critically ill, or debilitated patients, but for injuries or disease in the earlier stages... yeah. 

Steve was in his lab, concentrating on the latest batch when Jarvis sounded the alarm. He'd tried various methods of weakening the strain, but so far either it was totally inert, or resulted in the usual dead mice. He locked down all the hazardous material, Capped up and grabbed his Captain America uniform from storage. Jarvis had no visuals anywhere in his quarters, and couldn't listen in unless called by name, so Captain America shouted, "Jarvis! Situation report!" as he dressed.

"Mr. Stark has been abducted."

Captain America froze for a moment, remembering three months without a word, thinking Tony was dead. "What happened?" He sealed the last fastener and headed for Iron Man's quarters. Jarvis would have alerted him at the same time and he never took very long to suit up.

"Mr. Stark was taken while en route to a meeting at the Pentagon with a General Ross. His driver was killed. Witnesses describe the assailants as heavily-armed and acting as a cohesive military unit. Their commander was singularly large and grotesquely deformed."

Steve was running down the hall when he heard Iron Man's heavy tread racing to meet him. "Iron Man."

"Captain," Iron Man said tonelessly. "Jarvis has footage of the abduction. I suggest we view it before deciding on a course of action."

Steve wanted to leave immediately, but Captain America knew Iron Man was being sensible. They reached the nearest monitor, which Jarvis had already filled with images, blown up stills and videos of assorted quality, taken by witnesses who would have been smarter to run for it, but there was always someone who couldn't resist taking pictures in the middle of a war zone. "Smith," Steve said, staring at the rubbery red-skinned, thin-fleshed face. The serum had apparently stabilized, but his face looked like a bloody skull. Steve had no idea what the rest of him looked like, and he really didn't care to discover it. The Red Skull's appearance didn't seem to faze his soldiers. They had their heads clean-shaven, even removing eyebrows, to better show off the hate-filled slogans and images they'd had tattooed. "He stole the serum that made me what I am."

Iron Man tilted his head. "Has he the same abilities as you?"

Captain America nodded. "I fought him several times, to a standstill, but haven't heard of him for months. Mr. Rogers assumed the serum had finally killed him."

"Apparently he was raising and training a cadre." 

Steve wondered at Iron Man's ability to sound so detached while they watched Tony be dragged, struggling and dazed, from his limo. The front of the car had been smashed in, and there was blood smeared across his face and hands. A dirty white van with crumpled hood showed how they'd stopped the limo by the simple tactic of plowing into it. They tied Tony's hands behind his back, and threw a dark cloth hood over his head. Tony came to sudden, frenzied life, kicking and using elbows, shoulders, and even his head, against them up until one of them hit him over the head with something Steve couldn't see clearly, and Tony sank to his knees. They threw him into the back of another dirty white van and left. "I regret that is all the information I have currently available," Jarvis said. "I recommend an on-site investigation."

Captain America pulled his shield close to his body. "Iron Man, how quickly can you get us to that location?"

"That depends on how many g-forces you can take."

"Now's a good time to find out."

***

Captain America was glad of the welding goggles Iron Man borrowed for him from Tony's workshop. At the speed they were flying he wouldn't have been able to keep his eyes open. He'd flown with Iron Man before, but never an extended flight like this. Uncomfortable was the best word for it, it was cold, so cold his bones hurt, the wind of their passing was a constant howl and his muscles ached where Iron Man wrapped a metal arm around him. But it saved time and his energy. He would need every Capped up minute he could get when he faced Smith. They'd decided that Iron Man should try to get Tony while Steve handled the Red Skull. Well, Iron Man had decided it, and Steve hadn't argued because... well, Iron Man and Tony had escaped captivity once. If seeing Iron Man coming to his rescue was a familiar comfort to Tony, Steve wasn't going to deny him that. And he really, really wanted to punch Smith in the face, as hard as he could.

The wind howl decreased, Iron Man shifted gradually into an upright position and they began descending. After a minute Steve could see a ribbon of highway below. The closer they got, the more details he could make out. There were police cars and other emergency vehicles, but no normal traffic. Iron Man landed and strode over to the wrecked cars, his helmet moving as if he was scanning for any clues. He could do that better than Steve, so rather than duplicate effort, and no, he wasn't just avoiding looking at the blood drying on the roadway, Steve turned instead to the police officers.

"Officers," he said politely, but without a hint of deference. He wanted to avoid an argument about jurisdiction. Some police officers got upset about 'vigilantes' but all the ones in New York were happy to have Captain America lending a hand. He hoped the word had spread that he was to be trusted not to cause trouble for them. "Iron Man is Mr. Stark's bodyguard. We'd appreciate any information you could give us." Iron Man didn't actually _care_ what the police thought of him, so long as they didn't get in his way. He had some authority issues, Steve had noticed that right away. So whenever possible, Captain America interfaced with the powers that be. It made life a little easier.

"Captain," one of the plain-clothes officers responded. "There isn't much yet. We have a good description of the van, including the license plate, but both were recently stolen. So was the one they left behind, so that lead goes nowhere. There was this, however..." He held up a clear evidence bag containing a single piece of paper bearing a hand-written message. Steve recognized Smith's handwriting. "It's addressed to Captain America."

Steve nodded. Smith must have realized who Captain America was, but he'd never exposed his identity. Steve didn't know why, but he was fairly sure it wasn't done out of any kindness. Maybe he was simply holding it in reserve, for the day he'd get some advantage from it. "Yeah, we've met a few times. May I?" He held out his hand.

"I'll need it back before you leave," the officer said, and then he turned away and began talking with some of the uniformed police.

The note was short and to the point. "Captain America. I now possess something that is of great value to a mutual friend of ours. I will exchange it, intact, for twelve of his 'special project'. I expect at least one success story. Further instructions will be provided for the exchange." Steve turned the plastic bag over, but that was it. He felt a little numb. Smith wanted to give his men the serum.

Iron Man came up next to Steve. "Captain? I found nothing useful. Have you had better luck?"

Steve looked at the note, and shook his head. "No. I know what he wants, but it's impossible. We can't talk here." He walked over to the detective and gave him back the evidence bag. "Thank you."

Iron Man didn't wait for Steve to say anything more. He just wrapped an arm around Steve's waist and took off. They went only a short distance before Iron Man landed in the middle of a grassy park. "Will this do?"

"Yeah." Steve looked around the park without seeing it. "Smith wants Mr. Rogers' serum. Enough to give it to a dozen of his men."

"The serum kills. Is he insane?" Iron Man was still very calm.

"Yes. I think he was probably always insane, but the serum made him worse." Captain America shook his head. "It's a no-win situation. If Mr. Rogers gives him the serum and it kills them all, Smith will kill Mr. Stark. If even one of them survives, he'd be as big a threat as Smith. I can't allow that risk."

"Smith has to know your reasoning, therefore he is either deluded or an idiot to think Mr. Rogers would provide the serum. In any event, I see no reason to believe he would release Mr. Stark even if his demands were met."

"No. He hates Mr. Rogers, and he'd like nothing better than to hurt him by killing his lover." Steve was bitterly aware that although he hadn't touched Tony in weeks, the tabloids still had them listed as a romantic couple. If only Tony had gone out partying and cheating on him in public, he would have been safe... or at least, a less appealing target. "The only chance is to find Mr. Stark and rescue him."

"Finding Mr. Stark presents no difficulty. He has an implanted tracking chip. I have his current location."

"What? Why didn't you say so before?"

"I needed to know more about his captors before attempting a rescue. Is Smith predictable? Can you devise a plan that will prevent him from killing Mr. Stark the moment we appear?"

Steve thought about it. "Maybe. I could... offer an exchange. My blood contains elements of the serum. He might be persuaded that a transfusion would work better than the original serum."

Iron Man went even more still than usual. "He'll kill you."

Steve shrugged. "Not if he wants the serum more than he wants me dead. And while he's distracted, you'll have a chance to get Mr. Stark clear. You haven't met Smith, he's arrogant and likes to underestimate people. He won't be prepared for you. I know... how much Mr. Stark means to you. You'll stop at nothing to save him."

Iron Man tilted his head. "Yes. I will even risk your life. He probably won't forgive me if you should die, so please, do try to survive."

"Yeah." Captain America smiled. "I'll do that."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, Natasha's a cat who's been living in my yard since her mom wandered in months ago.
> 
>  
> 
> [ Recent photo of Natasha](http://feng-shui-house.dreamwidth.org/1311260.html)


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING:
> 
> This chapter gets gory. It's not safe to be the Red Skull's minion.

The white van was parked in front of an equally nondescript warehouse. "It's a trap," Iron Man said as he hovered high over the building. Steve looked down and saw the rear doors of the van were wide open, and the Red Skull's minions were standing around it in something like a mockery of parade rest.

"Well, we knew that going in," Captain America said. "If you see a chance to get Mr. Stark away, do it. Don't worry about me."

"I know my priorities, Captain." Iron Man still sounded cold, as if Steve's... Captain America's... life meant little to him, but then, it wasn't just a past debt he owed Tony. Without Tony to maintain the suit, how long would Iron Man live? 

Steve didn't care why Iron Man was making Tony's life a priority, it was the right decision. Tony wasn't a superhero, he hadn't volunteered to risk his life fighting evil. He hadn't screwed up and _created_ the Red Skull. Steve held part responsibility for every crime the Red Skull committed. If Tony died because Steve forgot to take his lab keys with him... no. Much better if Steve died. Tony didn't deserve to suffer for Steve's mistake. "Set us down."

Iron Man didn't reply; he just brought them down facing the rear of the van. When they landed, Steve could see Tony inside the van, on his knees with the Red Skull holding a hypodermic to his throat. It wasn't an ordinary syringe- Steve could see that Smith was holding back a spring, preventing it from injection. If his grip relaxed whatever that fluid was would go directly into Tony's carotid artery. Tony was no longer wearing the hood but from the way he was slumped over, he probably was barely conscious, unable even to flinch, let alone fling himself to safety. "Captain," the Red Skull called hoarsely, "how good to see you again."

"The pleasure's all yours," Captain America said. He didn't turn his head to take in the situation. He didn't need to, his peripheral vision was excellent and he could see the minions moving in, drawing a semicircle close around them. He'd seen Iron Man take down armed terrorists without touching their victims, but this... the odds weren't good. "What's in the hypodermic?" he asked. You never know, some people like to brag.

"Death," Smith said succinctly. "It's effective, but not a particularly exotic toxin. Given a sample to analyze, a moderately well-equipped hospital would be able to identify and administer the correct antidote." He moved his hand slightly, and about half the contents of the syringe emptied into Tony's throat. 

"No!" Steve lunged forward. He could hear Iron Man's repulsors whining up to full power behind him.

"Stop right there, both of you," Smith said. "There's enough left to analyze, and enough time to save him... just about. If you don't waste either commodity." Tony jerked and swayed, but Smith held him upright without looking at him, the syringe poised to continue the injection. 

Steve stopped with Iron Man beside him. Steve's fists clenched uselessly. He'd left the shield behind, not wanting to let Smith get his hands on it. It was... Tony had made it for him, he wasn't going to have that filth touching it.

"It would be satisfying to kill him before your eyes," Smith said. "Heroes. Bah. You're as helpless as anyone else when faced with a resolute opponent."

"Rogers' serum wouldn't do you any good. You know that," Captain America said. "Mr. Stark could make you rich. You could pay for research to cure yourself."

Smith laughed. "Cure? I don't need to be cured. You think a pretty face is all that matters?" With the hand not holding the hypodermic, Smith grabbed Tony's hair and pulled his head up. Tony's eyes were open and he looked straight at Steve. "This is what pretty is. Foolish and weak. By all means, let's discuss it while he dies."

Iron Man spoke, "If Mr. Stark dies, then you die. Give him the antidote."

"I don't have one," Smith said. "Give me the serum... or do you have a better offer, Captain?" The gloating in Smith's voice was clear.

"Me." Steve said. "My blood contains the only fully successful variant of the serum." That was a lie; without Steve's peculiar ability to enter the theta state at will, he would have died. Smith's variant was actually more successful if your only goal was survival- he was deformed, and insane, but physically stable. Even if Steve's blood triggered the metabolic change in someone else, they would almost certainly die, and be no threat to anyone. He'd thought it through. It would be a straight trade, his life for Tony's with no innocents endangered. He opened his hands and held them palms up. "I'll come quietly and let you do whatever you want to me."

Tony's eyes widened and his lips moved in a silent 'no', but Steve didn't care what Tony wanted. This was his decision.

"Very well," Smith said. He nodded and his minions surrounded Steve and set several guns to his head. It was excessive, but it got the point across. "Your metal friend can have this rubbish." Smith flipped something on the injector, locking it shut before he threw it, and Tony, at Iron Man. Iron Man didn't pause to make a smart aleck remark; he caught Tony and the injector, and took off, knocking down a few of the Red Skull's men with the force of his repulsors.

They pulled the guns far enough away to allow them to throw a hood over Steve's head before he felt the round, hard press of a gun barrel against his temple. He could smell Tony's cologne, and oddly enough as they were dragging him somewhere he couldn't see, it was a comfort to him that they'd used the same hood. He'd be thinking of Tony when they killed him.

***

They dragged him up a ramp into something where the echoes came back tinny sharp. He smelled grease and chemicals. Hands were on him, pulling at his uniform, sawing the fasteners on his shirt with something like metal shears. They weren't particularly careful in their haste, and he had to force himself to stand still and not react to cuts he couldn't see, but definitely could feel. None of them were particularly painful, more careless nips- doubtless the Red Skull had given orders against wasting his blood. The round pressure of the gun barrel against his temple didn't go away until he'd been pushed onto his back on a hard, cold table and loaded down with so many chains that breathing took a conscious effort, not aided by the cloth hood. 

Voices were muffled by the hood, but he had no difficulty recognizing the sound of an engine revving, and he suddenly realized he was in a semi-trailer. The big rig rumbled and moved out, rough at first, and with many turns, before settling down to a straight, smooth travel. He tensed his muscles.

The Red Skull's said, "You can struggle all you like. I'll just make the blood flow faster." A cold hand landed in the middle of Steve's chest. "Don't die too soon. I want to enjoy this." And then the voice sounded further away, as if Smith had turned aside. "Test for type first. As I recall, it was Type B, wasn't it? Check the other factors as well, we'll try the closest match first."

Steve didn't twitch a muscle as a needle sank into his arm. He wouldn't react to Smith's goading. Yes, Smith knew his blood type, knew who he was, and could reveal Steve's identity, but then he'd be killing weak and defenseless Steve Rogers, hardly the sort of thing to impress his wolf pack. No, he'd want to kill Captain America, to add to his legend.

***

He wasn't sure if it was his imagination, but Steve thought he felt the blood leaving his body, thought he felt his heart beating faster as it had less to push. He felt cold, but along one side, there was warmth from the body of the man lying beside him, not touching, no, he must be on a another table because the chains holding Steve go around the one he's on. The man was near, though, warm and breathing, so close. Steve's blood must be going into his body. "Oh, this is wonderful, you really must see this," Smith said. 

And then Steve's head was jerked roughly up from the table, and the hood torn off. He blinked and looked away from Smith's face. That... wasn't actually an improvement. A tube, dark red, linked his right arm to the left arm of... what used to be a man... lying on a table beside him. The chest was massive and the arms gorilla disproportionate, the head barely larger than human, with small, red-veined eyes, a barely visible nose, and protruding teeth. As he watched the chest continued to swell. The creature began moving, grunts of discomfort turning to screams of agony. It convulsed, snapping the straps holding it to the table and reared up, tearing loose the transfusion tube from its arm. Smith swiftly clamped off the tube from Steve's arm. "Sit down!" he ordered.

The once human arched its back... no... its chest expanded, organs growing, growing faster than the torso that contained them, until... it no longer contained them. It was a horror, flailing and making grotesque noises until Smith shot it in the head. It stood for a second, and then bowed forward, showing the wreck an expanding bullet could make of a skull, and collapsed. The organs were still pulsing.

Smith did something that probably would have been a scowl in a normal face. "Get stronger restraints for the next one." And then, while Steve watched in disbelief, the minions hauled aside the corpse that had been one of their own, and another man laid down on the table in his place.

"You're mad," Captain America said, "you're all insane." They didn't even look at him as they sterilized the equipment and began setting up for another attempt.

"They are dedicated, motivated by the purest emotion of all-- the desire for power." the Red Skull said. "The survivors will be the elite in our new world, unstoppable, each one a king. It's a pity you won't be alive to see it."

"I could be, if you weren't in such a hurry. You never did follow proper lab protocols, that's why you never were more than an assistant." Steve didn't care what the minions made of his remarks. He just had to get under Smith's skin, had to buy time, time for Iron Man to get Tony to a hospital and then come looking for him. Iron Man would do that, somehow he would find Steve, and even if it was too late for rescue, Steve was human enough to like the idea of Iron Man's revenge. A moment later a hard hand closed around his throat, a testament to the accuracy of his verbal aim. He couldn't talk, could barely breathe, but he hoped Smith could see the fury in his eyes. Smith could kill him; he couldn't make Steve afraid of him.

"You were nothing. A worm under my feet. A sanctimonious, self-righteous do-gooder. The serum improved your body, but it left you those weaknesses." The Red Skull released his grip. Steve lay there, breathing hard until the black specks faded from his vision, and he felt less like passing out. He felt a tug on... in... his arm, the sensation revolting not so much for what it felt like, but for what it meant. They'd hooked him up to the next man. He couldn't see much of the man because Smith was standing between the tables, just one long, pale arm, tattooed with obscenities and disturbingly violent images of grotesques tormenting people. If those creatures inked on his body were his ideal, it was no wonder he hadn't been disgusted by the monster whose blood still pooled on the table he lay on.

Steve coughed. "It's not a weakness. It's called being human." The Red Skull moved away, giving Steve a clear view of the changes begining on the man next to him. The distortions were different, but even in the earliest stages, he could see they wouldn't be viable. Teeth growing from a gaping set of jaws in the stomach-- literally, the stomach, not the belly, bit ravenously at tentacles that had been fingers as the monster tried to devour itself. He said, "Humanity is stronger than any monsters you can create." Smith snarled something, and hit Steve across the face, hard enough to make everything fade into dim grayness. He fought not to theta. He needed to stay strong, needed to die as Captain America.


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Another minion bites the dust, but less graphically than in chapter 23.

The Red Skull didn't waste time with his second failure. He clamped the transfusion line shut and put a bullet in the head of the creature. Which didn't kill it. Apparently it was growing a second brain somewhere else. Steve watched, the lightheadedness from blood loss making him detached from his emotions as Smith and his minions eventually put the thing out of its misery. They left the corpse on the table while Smith went over the typing results, apparently trying to decide if the two failures had something in common.

Steve shifted, and the chains rattled. Smith glanced at him, and then returned to the test papers. Everyone was ignoring him. Steve had always hated that, hated being invisible because he was weak, but right now, he didn't mind. He couldn't move the arm with the transfusion line; they'd chained that one down tight, but there was a little slack on his left arm. He relaxed the muscles and got a bit more room. He used his fingers to walk his arm over to the side of the table, investigating the chain by touch as he went. There might be a weak link. He wasn't going to give up and die without a fight.

He had his fingers on a rough edge where a link didn't close as tightly as usual, and he was trying to figure out how to get leverage to do something useful when there was a loud _crunch_ and two ragged holes opened in the top of the trailer, letting in so much light that Steve had to squint against the glare to make out the red gauntlets peeling back the top like a canned ham. Iron Man leaped into the hole, and shook the trailer when he landed, shoulder mounted guns bristling and firing, picking off minions even before his boots hit. The Red Skull screamed in rage and turned towards something Steve couldn't see from his position.

"Uh oh," Iron Man said and ducked. There was a blaze of red light that cut through a minion who'd been standing behind Iron Man. "Not good." He lifted his left arm and fired something that made Smith curse, then did something Steve couldn't see and the chains rattled and moved. 

Captain America sat up and pushed the chains off. He ripped out the transfusion line, folded his arm to slow the bleeding, and got off the table. His legs were unsteady, and his chest was damn cold. He was glad they hadn't bothered to take off any of his other clothing, at least Iron Man wouldn't recognize Steve Rogers. He ducked another red ray; this one was broader. "I think he's getting the hang of it!" he shouted.

"I think you're right!" Iron Man replied. He turned his back to Steve. "Can you hang on?"

"Yes!" Steve was sore and exhausted, but he'd do a lot more than accept a pig-a-back ride to get out of this mess. He grabbed on and hoped that Iron Man didn't need the shoulder-mounted weapons or the back propulsion system. "I'm on!"

"We're gone!" Iron Man fired both hand repulsors at Smith, which at least knocked him backwards, away from his weapon, and then they took off, going a lot slower than he knew Iron Man could travel when unimpeded.

Steve yelled, "We should stop the truck!"

"No time," Iron Man said. "Mr. Stark needs treatment."

"Didn't you take him to the hospital?"

"Briefly. They're analyzing the poison. He refused to wait for the antidote because he had to operate the tracker he'd put in your uniform. He's been guiding me to you. He didn't want..."

"He what?" Steve was angry and worried, and... damn, he was starving. He was going to be forced into theta any minute and then he'd be dead weight unable to hold on tightly enough by himself, slowing Iron Man even further. "Put me down and go take care of Mr. Stark, that's an order!"

"You need to go to the hospital yourself, Cap!"

"I'll heal. I've got to eat! Now!"

Iron Man landed in a parking lot of a supermarket, and then took off again. Steve was so angry at Iron Man; after everything he'd said, he was risking Tony's life. He got his concentrated food from his belt and began gulping it down, squashed and disgustingly warm as it was. He could feel his energy ebbing. He went into the supermarket, ignoring the stares and particularly pointedly ignoring the 'no shirt, no shoes, no service' sign as he grabbed a tee-shirt and a pair of baggy shorts from a display of summer wear underneath a cardboard beach umbrella. He added a two liter bottle of soft drink without looking at the label, and went through the self-service counter with his emergency debit card while still chewing. He didn't know what the expression on his face was like, but no one got in his way as he left the store.

He drank and ate, and walked along briskly, looking for a place to change before he changed. That didn't make sense... yeah, he wasn't thinking clearly. Tony could be dying. What had Iron Man been thinking to let Tony do that? And Steve couldn't even go with him. He hated this, at this moment he hated Captain America. What good was he if he couldn't protect Tony? He was shaking. He looked down at his arms. Were they a little thinner... damn. There. A row of dumpsters behind the grocery. He ducked between two of them and sat down, closing his eyes and refusing to think of anything. Theta. Calm. Meditate. Be calm.

***

Steve returned to the mansion thanks to the good graces of a taxi driver he'd befriended who was cheerfully willing to pick him up at any distance and wait for payment (Steve always tipped Sami at least 30%). He was barefoot and still sizzling with anger, but he calmed down enough to realize that as he was wearing ill-fitting grocery store chic, and carrying Captain America's clothing in a paper sack adorned with the Harris Teeter logo of a fish, an apple and a loaf of bread, he couldn't afford to go searching for Iron Man to shout at him, or for Tony to see him, please God, let Tony be there and be all right. He didn't really care about his secret identity at the moment, but if Iron Man knew it had been Steve Rogers who'd propositioned him and then masturbated in front of him... no, then he _would_ tell Tony, and everything would fall apart. Why the hell had he thought that was a good idea in the first place? Steve used his key to the hidden entrance that led to his private quarters, and went in. He'd have to have some excuse for not being around during this disaster. He could hardly claim he didn't hear Jarvis's alarm. Maybe he could say that he'd gone to Captain America's quarters and fainted from the stress? Pretty feeble. But then, Tony knew Steve was pretty feeble. It would have to do.

He took a quick shower, and checked that he had no visible marks remaining of Captain America's ordeal. Then he drank another two liters of something disgustingly sweet and full of calories while dressing. He should eat more, but he had to know about Tony first.

***

"Jarvis? Where's Tony?" Steve asked. He wasn't sure what he hoped the answer would be. 'In the hospital' would tell him Tony was getting medical attention. 'In his quarters' would tell him Tony had either been well enough to come home, or bull-headed enough to check himself out against medical advice. 

"Mr. Stark is currently in his workshop."

Steve sighed. "Thank you, Jarvis." He should have guessed. Tony was an idiot. But he was alive, and safe. Steve stopped at his lab for a basic medical kit and then headed for the workshop. He was relieved to see that the glass was transparent and the locking mechanism in the door disengaged at his touch. He was less pleased to see Tony burrowed inside the torso of the empty Iron Man armor, gutted wires and components hanging from it as it dangled from a ceiling mounted hoist.

"Tony!"

"I'm a little busy here, Steve," Tony said without coming out into view.

Steve wasn't going to accept that. He strode up to Tony and grabbed him by the shoulder. "Captain America told me what happened. You should be in the hospital!"

Tony emerged from the armor and looked at Steve. He'd cleaned up and changed clothes, but looked far from well. His skin had a grayish tinge and he moved jerkily, as if his balance was off. There was a butterfly bandage across his forehead and assorted cuts sealed with Superglue (when Steve had first protested Tony's self-doctoring, Tony had pointed out that cyanoacrylate was used as a surgical glue. Steve had pointed out that medical grade glue was actually a related compound, non-toxic and less irritating to skin tissue than the stuff people used for piecing together grandma's ceramic nick-knacks. They compromised by Steve supplying Tony with the proper glue, even though Tony continued to grab whatever was handiest when he wanted to patch himself up.) "I'm fine," Tony said. "They gave me the antidote, no problem, I'll be right as rain-- can't figure that out-- what's right about rain?"

"Tony," Steve said and squeezed his shoulders. "You almost died. You need to rest." And be checked for concussion and other injuries. If Steve could get him to agree.

Tony looked at the armor. "Iron Man was going to let Captain America die. I've got to install overrides. Make sure he can't do anything like that again."

"Iron Man was right. Captain America..."

"No," Tony snapped. "He was wrong. The world needs Captain America."

"And it doesn't need you?" Steve snapped back. "What's wrong with you?"

"Do you want the whole list? Have you got a few days to spare?"

Steve bit back his anger. Tony was obviously not well, and goading a sick man was not only cruel, it was pointless. He loosened his grip on Tony's shoulders. "Tony, no, I don't want to listen to you put yourself down. I want you to let me... or some other doctor... examine you. You probably have a concussion and the last thing you ought to be doing is working with weapons systems."

"The Iron Man suit isn't a weapon. It's a prosthesis," Tony said, as he always did when pressed on that point.

"It's a prosthesis full of things that go bang." Steve looked at the suit. "How long can Iron Man live without it?"

"Oh, he's got an implant... that's what keeps him alive. The suit... is what makes him want to stay alive." Tony seemed to deflate. "But he shouldn't have chosen me over Captain America."

"I'm glad he did." Steve would have hugged Tony, but he knew that would lead to panicked flailing. "Look, will you at least sit down and let me check your vital signs?"

"I'm fine. I could use a cup of coffee, that's all."

"Later." Steve guided Tony to the workshop sofa.

Once he sat down, Tony leaned his head back and closed his eyes. "Captain America... is he all right? Iron Man had to leave him."

"He's fine. He sent me to check on you, so the sooner you cooperate and let me do it, the sooner I'll be able to reassure him. You don't want to upset Captain America, do you?" When Tony opened his mouth to respond, Steve pushed a thermometer in. "Don't bite that." Tony mumbled around the thermometer, but didn't open his eyes.

Steve took his time with the rest of the tests. Since Tony had been walking and carrying on a sensible (within Tony parameters) conversation and there hadn't been any behavioral changes, there was no reason to prevent Tony from falling asleep, and a whole host of reasons why it would be a good idea. If he could keep Tony still long enough... 

Tony opened his eyes. He reached up and took the thermometer out of his mouth to wave it at Steve. "How did the Red Skull find me?" It didn't really sound like a question.

"Does it matter?" Steve didn't like the rhythm of Tony's pulse. It wasn't anything he could clinically point to as wrong, but his instincts didn't like it.

"Of course it matters. Only three people should have known my exact route and itinerary- Pepper, the driver who was killed, and General Ross."

Steve noticed Tony's heart rate pick up. "I thought you were going to speak to senators."

Tony shrugged. "The general convinced them that Iron Man has military applications, and he was going to derail my talks with the senators unless I met with him first. That's why he sent the limo, to make sure I didn't bypass him."

"Why would a general want to help the Red Skull kidnap you?"

"Ross is the lead hawk among the hawks. He doesn't just want the Iron Man. He'd give his eyeteeth for a platoon of super soldiers."

"But working with the Red Skull?" 

"Perhaps I misspoke. He'd give what's left of his rotten soul." 

"Tony, you have no proof. You can't go around accusing a general of crimes."

"I know." Tony closed his eyes again. "Just what I needed, an untouchable enemy with an army behind him."

"You're not alone." Steve laid his hand along Tony's cheek. "You have Iron Man. And Captain America."

Tony smiled without opening his eyes. "Yeah. Yeah, I do have Captain America on my side."


	25. Chapter 25

After that things got even more awkward between them. The next time Steve was Captain America, Tony apologized for Iron Man leaving him behind. "You know, that's not what he's _for_ , leaving people behind."

Captain America couldn't help hearing the anger; it wasn't disguised at all. "It was a sound tactical decision. Smith wasn't going to kill me right away. It bought us time." Tony reacted as if he'd slapped him in the face. "Mr. Stark? Are you all right?"

"Me, I'm fine. I'm indestructible, didn't you know that? But you're not." Tony looked up into Captain America's eyes. "Iron Man has debts to pay, he has to do what he does, but you don't. You're a good man, Cap, there are other things you can do. You don't owe it to anyone to risk your life. I know you feel an obligation to Steve, but I'm sure he'd agree with me that you deserve a life of your own. Friends of your own."

It had been a while since Tony had looked at Steve the way he was looking at Captain America. "I have my own reasons for doing this, Mr. Stark. It's not a sacrifice, believe me." He put his hands on Tony's shoulders. "And we're friends, aren't we?" His hands were bigger than Steve's; they covered more of Tony's shoulders. He felt the tension that was always there for Steve, just for a second, before it melted away. It was a slightly bitter thought, that Tony trusted Captain America more than Steve.

"Yeah. Yeah, we're friends." Tony smiled at Captain America.

***

To make his life more confusing, Iron Man was so firmly in Tony's doghouse that Steve felt sorry for him and tried to keep him company as Steve because Iron Man wasn't socializing with Captain America. He never went to Iron Man's quarters, of course, not wanting to chance catching him vulnerable and hooked up to whatever life support he needed outside of the suit, but he invited him to his own suite of rooms to play chess, or to watch a movie. "I'm worried about Tony," Steve confessed one night, while he was setting up the board. "You know he's not just been avoiding us."

"Mr. Stark is very busy," Iron Man said.

Steve frowned as he moved the pieces into a neater alignment. "Tony always made time for... well... fun. He doesn't go out anymore."

"Where would he go?" Iron Man picked up the two kings and hid them in his gauntlets, allowing Steve the choice.

Steve tapped the right gauntlet. Iron Man turned his hand over to reveal white and the first move. "This is the longest since I've known Tony that he hasn't gone globe-trotting, or even gone to a party."

"Well, maybe he's becoming a better man." Iron Man put the pieces on the board. "Your move."

"I liked him fine the way he was," Steve said, even though he knew he sounded sulky. Iron Man was no help. Steve decided to call Pepper and Rhodey. He'd put off bothering them because it seemed really petty -- Tony won't play with me!-- and they were extremely busy people, but Tony was pulled so far into his shell that something needed to be done.

***

"Hello, Pepper, this is Steve."

"Steve! I haven't heard from you in ages! How are you? How's Tony? I spoke to him after the kidnapping, but you know Tony, all he'd say was that he was fine and he needed me in California looking after his company, and not in New York holding his hand." Pepper spoke so fast Steve couldn't get a word in. He felt guilty for not calling her sooner. She'd obviously been worried.

"Oh, we're fine, you know, keeping busy, keeping out of trouble." Even to himself, Steve didn't sound very convincing.

"That doesn't sound like Tony. What's wrong, Steve?"

Steve sighed. "Tony's been keeping out of trouble. He's not partying or drinking or even taking joyrides in his cars."

"So? Oh! I see what you mean. He hasn't been on YouTube or the news, and the clipping service hasn't sent me anything on him in ages. Is he in a whirlwind of inventing enthusiasm, or in the doldrums of invention stalemate?"

"Neither. I wish he was. He's down in the workshop all the time, all right, but he's not working on anything new." Steve took a deep breath and went on. "It's like he's hiding in there. The only one he really talks to these days is Captain America, and even the Captain can't convince Tony to take a break and come up for air."

"That is serious. I know he practically idolizes the Captain."

That hurt, but Steve pushed his feelings aside. "It's a mess, and I don't know what to do about it. I thought I might call Rhodey, see if he can suggest something."

"That's a good idea." Steve could hear her doing something on her computer. "He has leave coming up in two weeks. If we can't talk Tony out of the doldrums, we'll lure him out with a pizza and cheesy breadsticks."

"Live trapping may be the way to go," Steve replied, feeling more cheerful by the moment. Once Pepper set her mind to something, it got done, and Rhodey was Tony's oldest friend, he'd know how to get Tony out of his head and into the real world.

***

Steve had left a message with someone in the military-- he wasn't sure exactly who-- requesting a call back from Lt. Colonel Rhodes at a convenient time. No, it wasn't an emergency, just a... family situation. The man he'd spoken to had been brisk, and Steve wasn't entirely sure the message would be passed on, but he wasn't going to harass the Air Force, so he refrained from calling back. Late that night, his phone rang. He didn't recognize the number but Jarvis' caller ID told him who it was. "Colonel Rhodes," Steve said as he picked up. "Thank you for returning my call."

"Eh, no problem. And call me Rhodey, will you? I hear Colonel and I want to salute someone, which is weird over the phone."

Steve laughed. "All right, Rhodey. I won't keep you long. I just wanted to know if... well... if you had any advice on how to get Tony to lighten up."

"Excuse me? We're talking about Tony Stark? The man who wouldn't know serious if it bit him on the butt?"

"Iron Man thinks Tony is trying to 'become a better man', but giving up everything he enjoys doesn't sound like 'better' to me."

"Everything? And no, do not give me details. I love that man like my little brother and I do not want to hear about his sex life. I already know far too much about it."

"I don't know what's going on in his head, but it's nothing good. I can't even convince him to go for a cheeseburger. Let alone... everything."

Rhodey sighed. "The U.S. Air Force isn't going to advance my leave to take Tony Stark out on the town. They don't love him any more now that he's stopped making their favorite toys."

"I wasn't asking you to come in person, but maybe you could phone him?"

"Sure, I'll do that, but Tony's a hands-on kinda guy. If I was there, I could... I don't know, hug the stupid out of him."

"He'll let you hug him?" Steve was surprised. "What about his chest?"

"His... oh. Yeah, that's right." Rhodey sounded uncomfortable. "Well, kick his butt, offer to let him take me to a strip club, something irresponsible and reckless where he can embarrass the hell out of me. Tony could never resist that. Listen, I've got to go, but I'll call Tony in the morning, see if I can get him moving in the right direction."

"Thanks." Steve wasn't really sure that he'd accomplished anything with Rhodey. "Just... don't tell Tony I called you."

"This isn't like a lover's spat, or anything? Because, you know, I don't do relationship counseling."

"No, nothing like that," Steve said, although he wasn't sure he was telling the truth. "Whatever's bothering Tony, it's nothing to do with me."

"Ok, fine. No mushy stuff, good. I can deal with ass kicking, that's my style."

After they hung up, Steve lay back in his bed and wondered why he couldn't stop caring about Tony. He bet if he looked up 'high-maintenance boyfriend' in the Urban Dictionary, Tony Stark's picture would be there. He punched his pillow, rolled over and tried to go to sleep. Maybe he'd dream about him and Tony, the way they used to be.


	26. Chapter 26

Steve was pondering the merits of English muffin with orange marmalade versus onion bagel with cream cheese the next morning after a not very restful night when his phone rang. He glanced at the caller ID before picking it up. "Good morning, Tony," he said as he slotted the muffin into the toaster.

"Rhodey just called," Tony said without preamble.

"Oh?" Steve started the coffee maker, trying not to read anything into Tony's abruptness. "Haven't heard from him in a while. How's he doing?"

"Rhodey's fine. I'm fine. We're all fine, aren't we, Steve?"

Steve sighed. "We're friends. We're allowed to worry about you. That's part of the package, you know? You don't talk to us, you don't let us know what's bothering you, and..." Steve jerked his favorite mug out of the cabinet too fast. It slipped and smashed onto the floor. Noisily. "Damn."

"What was that?"

"Broke my favorite mug. The disappearing Tardis." Steve bent down to pick up the pieces.

"Think Geek has them, buy a new one."

"They don't make this kind any more." Steve rubbed his thumb over the lumpy blue paint of the shattered Tardis. "Sometimes you can't replace broken things, Tony."

"Are you getting philosophical on me? Are we still talking about coffee mugs?"

Steve tossed the ceramic shards into the trash. "No, we're not, Tony. We're talking about the fact that this is the longest conversation I've had with you in two weeks, despite the fact that we live in the same house." The coffee was brewing. Steve could smell it, a ridiculously expensive blend that Tony had introduced him to. "We don't even have breakfast together anymore."

Tony didn't say anything. Steve waited a minute or so, as the smells of toasting muffin and brewing coffee filled the room. "I miss you," Steve said finally. "I don't..." and then he stopped before he got emotional and spoiled things.

"I miss you, too, Steve. God, you don't know how much. I just..." Steve heard Tony sigh. "I'm sorry, but things really are going on and I don't have time. I need..."

"Can I help?"

"Um... actually, I was hoping you could ask Captain America to help me. I called his rooms, but there was no answer."

"Oh. Sure." Steve stared at the English muffin, popped up and cooling. "I'll send him to you."

"Thanks, Steve. We'll... talk later, after this is all settled."

Sometimes Steve really hated Captain America.

***

"I know you tell Steve things, but he doesn't need to know this," Tony said as Captain America entered Tony's workshop. It was quiet for once, and Iron Man was nowhere in sight.

"Know what?" Captain America asked.

"This." Tony waved at one of his insubstantial 'monitors' and the image rotated to face Steve. It was video only, with no sound, at first showing Smith and his minions outside the white van when Captain America and Iron Man confronted them, and then the video cut to the interior of the van, when Iron Man rescued Captain America.

"So? What am I looking at?" Captain America said curtly. 

Tony's eyebrows went up. "Am I bothering you? Is this too much to ask?"

"No, no, of course not," Steve said. The last thing he needed was for Tony to give Cap the silent treatment as well. "Go on."

"Right. Well, Iron Man brought back the video, and Jarvis analyzed it, but we weren't getting anywhere until something Steve had said about art, about every artist having their own style, came back to me. Jarvis said that all the tattoos were done by the same artist and all approximately done at the same time."

"Some sort of initiation ceremony? A band of brotherhood ritual?" Steve guessed.

"Possible. But it's also possible that was a secondary goal. I think the point was to make a break from their original identities, mostly symbolic, but practical, too. Aggressive tattoos are like a skunk's stripe, nature's warning. Fingerprint ID isn't as simple as crime shows make it seem, and they were hardly likely to be retina-scanned when everyone was just getting out of their way."

"Which means that if we knew who they were..."

"Yeah. Jarvis optically manipulated the images to remove the ink. Something interesting turned up. At least one of them had a tattoo _under_ the tattoos. Different ink formulation, different artist, years older."

Captain America looked at the optically cleaned up and sharpened images to the small tattoo on the upper arm of the man in the torn-off shirt, gun raised and presumably aimed at Iron Man. "Army Air Forces?"

Tony nodded. "As in, General 'Thunderbolt' Ross, of the Army Air Forces. It hasn't existed as a separate entity since 1947, but he pretends he's in command of it. He's even been seen wearing a bastardized Air Forces uniform. He says it's an homage, and since generals are generally a law unto themselves and have been known to do even odder things, no one stops him from playing at it."

"The tattoo doesn't prove anything. Even if it did, Jarvis manipulated the image, so it's not admissible in a court of law."

"I know. I don't actually need to get Ross thrown in prison, although it would be _nice_. I just need to cut him off from his power base in the military, sever his funding and make him persona non grata on Capitol Hill. He's still pushing for Iron Man to be turned over to the government. What I need you to do is see if you recognize any of these men as the kidnappers." Tony made a gesture and rows of ID photos of men in uniform filled the monitor. 

Captain America nodded. It was difficult at first, because he kept seeing the tattoos, but then he did the little 'twist' that let him see the underlying bone structure, the foundations of muscle and proportion that he'd learned to see as an artist. "That one." Steve pointed, and the selected image moved to one side. Eventually he had six men. 

"Are you sure?" 

"Positive," Captain America said. "No doubt in my mind."

"Well, then, how do you feel about accompanying me to Washington and backing me up? The senate allowed a delay for kidnapping and," Tony huffed and rolled his eyes, "recovery from trauma, but they're after me to reschedule the meeting. I'd rather not be in contempt of court, it's so tedious, and it irritates Pepper."

"Yeah. I can't testify under oath, though, not without revealing my identity."

"You're Captain America; people believe you without all that. At least they'll believe you enough to cast doubts in Ross's direction, and lose him friends. Those men..." Tony waved at the six files. "Jarvis sorted them out earlier and found their records. They all were dishonorably discharged for ...well, we don't need the details... _experiments_ , atrocities committed on prisoners, while they were nominally under Ross's command. He wasn't on base at the time, and there's no paper trail, no witness to say they were under his orders, so I can't even hint at his connection, but I damn well can point the finger at his men, and let the Senators come to their own conclusions. Politicians don't like being in the vicinity of filth; it tends to splatter."

"I'd go with you anyway, even if I couldn't speak up. You're still a target and you need protection. Iron Man's not enough..."

Tony shook his head. "Iron Man's not coming. If the Senators see him, greed will cloud their decision-making processes."

"But he..."

"No!" Tony snapped. "He's not coming."

"This is stupid, I know you've been angry with him, but this is cutting off your nose to spite your face."

"Where do you get these old sayings? Fortune cookies? Forget it. Iron Man isn't coming."


	27. Chapter 27

"The subpoena was for Mr. Stark," the presiding senator said as they arrived at the Senate and Tony led the way down to chairs at the front of the room, facing the investigating senators. They were barely seated and already the atmosphere was tense. "Not for your colorfully costumed friend."

Tony flicked off his sunglasses and gave the man a sharp grin. "Senator Stern, you are absolutely correct! Captain America has not been coerced into attending. Unlike some other people."

Captain America didn't wince, but he wanted to. Tony was in attack mode. This did not bode well.

Tony went on, "He is here in a dual capacity, both as an interested citizen and as my bodyguard."

"I resent that implication, sir. You do not need a bodyguard in the senate."

"That's not what I've heard." Tony's grin widened and Captain America would have liked to crawl under the desk. "More to the point, I was nearly killed the last time I accepted an invitation to express my views on property rights, specifically, _my_ property rights, before this august body."

"We're going a little far afield here, Mr. Stark. You are here to answer the questions put to you about the Iron Man weapon, not to lecture us on the laws which we understand more clearly than you do, sir."

Tony held up one finger. "Senator Stern, I don't know what you're talking about. There is no Iron Man weapon."

"Really? What do you call it, then?"

"I call it what it is. It's a prosthesis. That is, actually, the most accurate description of it."

"It is a weapon, Mr. Stark. One that you are willfully withholding from your nation."

Steve decided to interrupt before Tony could blast the senator with the witty and ill-advised remark he could sense coming, "The man in the Iron Man suit is dependent on it for his normal functioning, sir. That he uses it to help others doesn't change that fact." Steve used his full Captain America voice, trying to project his sincerity. "He used it to rescue me from Mr. Stark's kidnappers, some of whom were former members of the Armed Forces."

One of the other senators stirred at that. "Captain, this is the first I've heard of this. I was informed that the kidnappers were an isolated terrorist group, presumably foreign nationals."

Captain America shook his head. "No, sir, I'm sorry to say they were home-grown villains. If the senator will permit this, I can show you the basis for my claim."

"This isn't a court of law," Senator Stern said.

"No, sir, I fully understand that. I merely thought that it would serve to clarify Mr. Stark's position in this matter. He has created something which he feels strongly, personally, responsible for, and it is my considered opinion that he will never risk it falling under the control of anyone who might potentially misuse it." Steve took the print-outs of the kidnappers from the envelope he'd been carrying. Tony was watching him, tense and ready to leap in, but still trusting Captain America enough to wait. A little longer.

He fanned the papers out on the table before him. "I saw these men working for a man who's been trying to replicate the formula that made me what I am. He intends to create an army with my abilities, and these are the material he would use." Steve had noticed that people tended to listen to him, no matter what he said when he was Captain America, and he was using every instinct of body language, expression and voice to convince them to let him speak. "They were soldiers, as I've said. One and all they were dishonorably discharged from the service for experimenting on prisoners."

Tony used a little gadget to scan the images on the table and blow them up large, against the far wall where everyone could see them. He said, "Note the interesting tattoo... who do we know who imagines himself the commander of the Army Air Forces?" Tony turned in his seat and lowered his sunglasses to look over the crowd of interested parties, including Pepper, who looked scandalized. "Oh, hey, what a coincidence, General Thunderbutt Ross!" Tony pointed at the man. "Look! He's got on his toy Air Forces uniform. Isn't it precious?"

General Ross glared at Tony, but didn't say anything.

Captain America said calmly, "I'm sure Mr. Stark isn't implying there is any connection between General Ross and those men."

"Well, no, except for the fact that they were under his command when they were playing mad scientist with live people," Tony said. "But, hey, he said he was ignorant... I mean, innocent, totally unaware of what his men..."

General Ross jerked to his feet. "I'll sue you for slander!"

"What? You mean you weren't innocent?" Tony said, with a grin.

"I don't have to take that from a drunken, traitorous lecher!"

"Let's talk lawsuits!" Tony snapped back. "Who are you calling a traitor?"

"You're withholding a vital piece of military equipment from your country! I think nothing less than traitor applies!"

"General! General, please!" Senator Stern pounded on his desk with his gavel. "This has gone far enough!"

"It's people like you who endanger America!" Ross shouted. "Selfish, irresponsible brats who don't know the first thing about self-sacrifice, about doing whatever it takes to get the job done!"

Captain America said softly, but clearly, "Sir, the ends have never justified the means."

Senator Stern smashed the gavel down once more. "We are adjourned for the day!"

"Don't call me, I'll call you." Tony got up and blew Ross a kiss. Steve wanted to smack Tony in the back of the head. What a mess.

***

"So, we're going to have to come back again tomorrow?" Steve asked as he followed Tony into the limo. He was so not looking forward to it, but Tony was cheerful and bouncing on his toes, as if invigorated by the conflict.

"Doubt it. Along about now, Rhodey ought to be presenting my compromise to the Air Force-- the real Air Force. That should cut the ground out from under Ross and Sterns."

"Compromise?"

"I'm going to build Rhodey a suit of his own. Not as fancy as the Iron Man, more a Humvee than a sportscar." Tony shrugged. "I trust Rhodey. Also, I'll build in biometrics, so he's the only one who can use it."

"Aren't you afraid they'll reverse engineer it?"

Tony grinned. "Nope."

***

Captain America didn't have security clearance to go with Tony when he presented the new suit to the Air Force three weeks later, so Iron Man accompanied him. It was the first time Steve had seen the two of them together since the confrontation at the van, and he was sorry to see that their relationship hadn't improved. Tony gave Iron Man clipped orders, and Iron Man obeyed silently. 

When Tony returned to the mansion hours later, he dismissed Iron Man at the entrance with a curt, "Thanks. I won't need you for the rest of the day." 

Steve frowned as he watched Iron Man head for his quarters, but didn't comment on Tony's rudeness, it wouldn't do any good. "So, how did the demonstration go?"

Tony grinned at Steve. "Rhodey was awesome. The Air Force wanted more firepower, of course, they always do, but when I pointed out that I was giving them the equivalent of a flying battleship at no cost to the American taxpayer they decided they could afford to tack on their own bells and whistles. Anyway, it'll keep Ross busy for a while deciding whether to go with the pearl handled revolver or the Uzi."

"Ross got in on it?" Steve didn't like the sound of that.

Tony shrugged. "Part of the compromise. The suit will protect itself from reverse engineering, no one's going to be able to duplicate it. I don't mind if they give Rhodey more bang-bang. He always loved shoot-em-ups. I figure Ross's 'experts' will string him along for a year or so before they admit the War Machine is as one-of-a-kind as Iron Man. It'll be good job security for Rhodey, too." 

"So, you don't have to go back to the senate?"

"Nope, Sterns 'indefinitely postponed' discussions, pending a fuller investigation into 'blah blah blah'. He's lying low until the dust settles after his buddy Ross's blow up. By the time everyone forgets about that, there'll be other fish for him to fry. So, done deal." Tony nodded sharply. "I can get back to work."

"How about we go out for a little celebration?" Steve tried to make it sound casual.

Tony looked at him. "Um... yeah, it's been... ok, let me change into something not designed to impress the military and we'll go out for tacos or something? Ok?"

"Yeah, that'd be great, Tony." Steve smiled.


	28. Chapter 28

Tony was more relaxed than he'd been in a long time. Steve was glad he'd chosen [ The Taco Shop](http://www.tacoshopny.com/about-us.html). It was clean and small and tacky enough to be amusing, especially when Tony pointed out that the display of ['luchador' wrestling masks](http://www.yelp.com/biz_photos/the-taco-shop-new-york?select=31Ts8ZzJvAC1YRFLFsiw_Q#a5-sJttplJBcByJmVthBvQ) included both a red and white one, and a blue and red. "It's like Cap and ol' Shellhead are with us," he remarked as they sat down with margaritas to await their order.

"Let's not talk about them," Steve said. He reached across the table to take Tony's hand.

"Yeah, ok." Tony smiled and squeezed Steve's hand. "So, what have you been up to?" Tony had a sip of margarita.

"Oh, still working on the old puzzle, in between..." Well, in between being Captain America. "... other research for my company. It keeps me busy."

Tony nodded. "I know what you mean. Between my private projects and keeping up with S.I.'s demands for newer and shinier consumer bling to make up for the lack of military contracts... I've not been much fun lately, have I?"

The thing about Tony was, he basically couldn't maintain a relationship, but from time to time, he'd surface from self-absorption and acknowledge it. It wasn't that he didn't _want_ a relationship, or value it, he just pushed that aside when he was concentrating on problems. Whatever had happened in Afghanistan had set in motion a whole chain of problems, including Tony's health, taking care of Iron Man, and retooling Stark Industries. A _normal_ person would at least complain to their friends about their problems, but that never occurred to Tony because 'Stark men are made of iron'. He was fairly sure Tony was born with the innate need to do everything himself and his father's pushing him into situations where self-sufficiency was essential to survival had just nailed the lid shut on Tony's ability to share vulnerabilities.

"Not much, no," Steve said. He tightened his grip on Tony's hand. "You're lucky I'm a patient man."

"Yeah, I am, aren't I?" Tony leaned across the table to give Steve a quick kiss.

"We're in public, Tony!" Steve didn't mind the kiss at all, but he knew how little encouragement it would take for Tony to create a scene.

"It's pretty dark in this corner."

It wasn't really, but they were in the far corner and there wasn't anyone sitting at the table next to them. And it had been such a long time... "What if we get kicked out?"

"They deliver." Tony put his free hand into Steve's hair and pulled him close for another kiss, slower and deeper. Tony tasted like guava margarita. Steve could get used to that. He put both hands into Tony's hair then moved them down his shoulders, holding him close. This was good, Tony wasn't tense, was warm and yielding firm muscle not the rock-hard stiffness Steve usually felt before Tony backed away from intimacy. Steve realized it was because the small table between them prevented their chests from meeting. He'd have to buy one of these tables for the mansion. Maybe two.

***

As it turned out, they didn't get kicked out of the restaurant. Tony's black Amex may have had something to do with that, but more likely it was due to the fact that when the server brought their order it filled the table too much to allow upper body groping (Tony had basically ordered one of everything), and so they settled for twining their legs beneath the table, and sharing their dishes back and forth. 

They talked and played footsie, and drank Dos Equis while they ate until Steve was full. He hiccuped and leaned sideway a little. Tony caught him and grinned. "You're buzzed, Steve."

"And you're not?" 

Tony shook his head. "I weigh more than you, and I'm in training. Listen. I'm not a pheasant plucker. I'm a pheasant plucker's son. And I'm only plucking pheasants, 'till the pheasant plucker comes." Tony grinned. "Do you want to try?"

Steve thought about it for a moment. "You just want me to say something dirty so you can laugh at me."

"No, I just like the way you blush when you're embarrassed. It's very sexy."

And of course, that made Steve blush and Tony did laugh. "Are you done, Tony? I can't eat another bite."

Tony looked at the small mountain of food still on the table. "Neither can I. We should get this packed up to take back for Cap."

It was like a glass of cold water down his back. Steve straightened. "Yeah. Except." He pulled a chocolate tamale out of the pile and set it aside. "Iron Man has a sweet tooth. He should have a treat. He never gets to go out."

Tony frowned, but didn't object. The ride home wasn't entirely comfortable. Tony kept looking at the little white paper bag on Steve's lap. He was almost sorry he'd done it, but fair's fair, Tony had been treating Iron Man like... like a thing, like he didn't have any feelings. And at the same time he practically idolized Captain America.

So they got back to the mansion and split up to leave their offerings at the door of their respective heroes. And then Tony disappeared into his workshop and Steve decided to hell with it, he was going to sleep off the beer and the food, and deal with Tony later.

***

Steve woke up hours later with a sour stomach and a dull headache. He considered Capping Up for an instant cure, but decided he deserved the reminder that going head-to-head with Tony in a drinking contest was a really stupid idea. Lucky it was mostly beer and he'd had plenty of food with it, so he wasn't really hungover, just not entirely a happy camper. And, oh, hell, he'd forgot to retrieve the food Tony left for Captain America. He'd have to get it and dispose of it fast, before Tony noticed and maybe started thinking, or started over-thinking, which would be worse.

On his way to Captain America's quarters he encountered Iron Man. Iron Man said, "Thanks."

"Thanks?" Steve was still a little slow. "Oh, the chocolate tamale. Did you like it?"

"Yeah. It's funny the things you miss."

"I'm sorry I didn't think of it before. You only get out of the mansion on missions. You could stop off somewhere on the way back, though, order what you like instead of always eating whatever the cooks prepare here."

Iron Man shrugged. "No pockets."

"Tony could set up an account for you with..."

Iron Man shook his head. "Don't ask him, please. It's fine."

"It's not fine. Tony treats you like dirt. You deserve better." Steve reached out to touch Iron Man's arm.

"No." Iron Man didn't move. "I don't. I really don't."

Steve sighed and pulled back his hand. "You're a good man."

Iron Man's helmet turned to look more directly at him. "You like to believe the best of everyone, Mr. Rogers." Then Iron Man turned and headed in the direction of his quarters.

Steve stared after him for a minute, then went on to retrieve Captain America's food. This situation had got out of hand, but he couldn't see any way out of it. Both Iron Man and Tony were stubborn as mules.


	29. Chapter 29

"Tony," Steve said when he finally tracked Tony down. Of all places, he was sitting on a blanket on the roof, watching Iron Man perform aerial acrobatics.

"Hmm, yeah, Steve?" Tony said vaguely.

Steve sighed and sat down next to him. "What are you doing?" He reached out to play with Tony's hair, figuring he could get away with it while Tony was distracted.

"Just... I don't usually get to see Iron Man in action. It's... he's really beautiful, isn't he?"

"Yeah," Steve said, but now _he_ was distracted. Tony smelled good, he always smelled good. He had some weird cologne that smelled like copper and coconut, and it suited him. Made him smell like something Steve wanted to bite."It's getting late," he said, moving closer, so his side was almost touching Tony's.

"I want to see what you see in him," Tony said, while staring at Iron Man.

Steve resisted rolling his eyes. He stroked the back of Tony's neck and rubbed at his shoulders. "He's a good man. He's messed up, but he keeps trying."

"He's no Captain America."

"He doesn't have to be. He shouldn't be." Steve also resisted saying that Captain America doesn't deserve to be put on a pedestal. "He's Iron Man."

"You just feel sorry for him because he's broken." Tony turned to look at Steve. "You make allowances for him. Like you do for me, don't think I haven't noticed."

Steve huffed in annoyance. "I make allowances for you because I love you."

"You shouldn't."

"Shouldn't what? Make allowances? Love you?"

"Probably both."

"Tony," Steve said, his voice sharp with exasperation. "why do you make everything so difficult? Look, if you have problems, you don't solve them by ignoring them. Whatever's wrong, you can tell me. And if you can't tell me, then Pepper or Rhodey would listen. I don't know what happened to you, and it hurts me that you won't share it with me, but what really bothers me is that your way isn't working, but you refuse to try anything else."

"What else is there? Steve, I can't help it. I can't..." 

And then Steve noticed that while they talked he and Tony had turned to face each other, and Tony had both arms up, crossed defensively in front of his chest. "Tony... you know I'm not going to hurt you. You know I _can't_. I could _never_."

"I know." Tony didn't lower his arms. "But also... you couldn't have stopped them. And they'd have used you against me, gone right through you to get to me. And... I would have given them what they wanted." Abruptly Tony stood up. "I've got to go."

"Tony?" Steve scrambled to his feet, but Tony moved fast when he was motivated and by the time Steve reached the attic access, Tony was gone. "What? What was all that?" And then he realized why Tony was attracted to Captain America, because he wasn't a useless wimp like Steve Rogers. It hadn't mattered before, when Tony had thought himself invulnerable, but now that he's been kidnapped and made helpless _twice_ , sure he needs a god damn hero in his bed.

***

And then of course Tony was in workshop lock-down mode while he played the 'emotional confession, what emotional confession, you must have imagined it' game. Since Steve was still coming to terms with the revelation that he wasn't enough for Tony, he didn't try too hard to confront him. Could Captain America give Tony what he needed? Should he? Tony would be so sweet to Cap, Steve could imagine it. Tony had always craved attention and affection. He'd choose those over sex, if he had to; Steve had seen him do it gladly, the times his asthma had been bad and all they could do was cuddle. 

It'd be damn awkward with him having to ask Tony to wake him up after orgasm, but he could explain that as a side-effect of the serum-- which had the virtue of being true. Or better still, he could adapt a medical monitor to zap him or inject him with a stimulant if he started to lose consciousness. Yeah, that would be better, because Tony needed a lover who hadn't any weaknesses. Captain America was the peak of human development, he had to be flawless.

Steve wasn't an engineer, so normally he'd ask Tony's advice, or turn it over to the R&D department in Rogersmed, but this had to be his secret. It had to be unobtrusive and utterly reliable. He stopped working on the serum to concentrate on the device. This was for Tony, he was going to fix things and give Tony what he needed. And he wasn't going to feel bad that he wasn't good enough. It wasn't as if Tony had planned this, it wasn't anyone's fault. Unless you counted the terrorists and Smith. And yes, if Captain America ever got his hands on Smith again, he wouldn't hold back. Tony needed a protector, and by God, Captain America would take care of him.

***

Steve still hadn't perfected the stimulant device when Rhodey called a few weeks later. "Oh, hello, Rhodey," Steve said. "How are you?"

"I'm good. I need to bring the War Machine in for a few tweaks, though. Is Tony around?"

"Around? Of course he's around. He practically lives in the workshop." 

"Man, he's turtled again? He used to do that in college whenever he got into a snit. He's not answering his phone, even. We're gonna have to drag him out into the sunshine, huh?" Steve could hear Rhodey sigh. "You do know he's a grown-ass man and we shouldn't have to be looking after him?"

"Yes," Steve said, but he was smiling. "Absolutely. We shouldn't. What time will you be here?"

"ETA, two hours. I've just got to sign off on some paperwork. Hey, you know that little Italian place with the lasagna and the cannoli?"

"I know it. I'll have it waiting." Steve hung up and changed from his lab coat to his outside clothes.

***

"What did you let them do to my baby, Rhodey?" Tony asked when Rhodey stomped into the workshop in full War Machine gear. "Is that a machine gun? Is there a slingshot, too? You look like they dipped you in hot glue and rolled you in a surplus depot."

Rhodey had the visor of his helmet up. He gave Tony a dirty look. "Well, _some_ people were too busy to lend a hand, so I had to make do."

"That's no excuse." Tony walked around War Machine, going 'uh huh'. "The Air Force understands aerodynamics, don't they? It must be like steering a barge."

Steve had to admit that Tony had a point. War Machine was bulky and awkward looking when compared to Iron Man.

"Hey, don't poke back there, Tony! It bites!" Rhodey warned when Tony picked up a scanner and aimed it at his back.

"Relax, baby knows it's me." Tony ran the scan and grinned. "So, they tried to sniff out War Machine's secrets."

"Yeah, you'll be glad to know there were no serious injuries."

"Baby is smart enough not to bite the hand that feeds her."

Steve said, "You talk as if the suit can think."

"Well, to a limited extent, if by think you mean 'assess a situation and choose an appropriate response from a preprogrammed menu', then yes. Baby can think a bit."

"Speaking of menus," Rhodey said, "How about I get out of this tin suit and we take lunch out on the lawn?"

"Good idea," Steve said, wriggling the aluminum foil wrapped pan he was holding in his right hand.

"We could eat here," Tony said. "Only take a sec to clear a table."

"No, man," Rhodey said firmly. "I'm not having my nose full of engine grease and spoil Bertie's lasagna."

"Bertie's?" Tony glanced at the paper box Steve had in his left hand. "Lasagna and cannoli?"

"And I even got a tub of Wedding Soup."

"You're bribing me with food to go outside?"

"Yes," Rhodey remarked while the automated machinery removed the War Machine armor from him. "Also, I want to see if you can tolerate garlic and sunlight."


	30. Chapter 30

After they finished eating and talking about trivial things, Rhodey grew serious. "Look, Tony, I didn't just come here to watch you stuff your face." He leaned his elbows on the picnic table set under a large tree. It had been one of Tony's favorite places to get away from things as a boy. It still had a robot laser- burned on one leg from an early experiment.

"I know, you came so I could pimp your ride." Tony found an overlooked cannoli and raised his eyebrows in Steve's direction. Steve cut it in half and took his share.

"That, too. But really... I came because they were testing the suit when I wasn't around. I don't know what they were looking for, but if they didn't want me to see it, that sends up warning flags."

"Eh, you know the suit protects itself from analysis," Tony was making the process of licking the cream out of the cannoli into a sex act. Steve tried not to watch, but he couldn't help listening.

"Tony... Ross was there, and he was looking... smug. Something's up."

"He probably just had gas."

Steve said, "You know he hates you like poison, Tony. Maybe they found a weakness in the suit."

Tony shrugged. "I don't say it's impossible, but I think it's far more likely that Ross was just using psychology on you. He knew you'd tell me he was sneaking around the suit, and I'm supposed to... what? Worry myself into a tizzy? I'm really not afraid of Ross's trained monkeys. Saluting and brown-nosing were the hiring qualifications, not intelligence. Anyone with an ounce of common sense would stay far away from him."

"So... what does that mean, you're going after Ross?" Rhodey asked.

Tony laughed. "No, I'll let him have as much rope as he wants. He can't really do anything to me."

"What if you're wrong?" Steve asked. It didn't seem very sensible to ignore a dedicated enemy. Look at Smith. Hate was a powerful motivator.

"Well, if I'm wrong and Ross actually discovers a vulnerability in the armor, I'll owe you both a steak dinner."

***

After Rhodey left, with promises to return in two weeks to allow Tony to install 'new bling' on the War Machine, Steve decided to tell Iron Man what Rhodey had said. After all, he was the one who'd be in danger, not Tony, and after the way Tony had dismissed it, it didn't seem likely he'd warn Iron Man. "Jarvis," Steve said when he returned to his quarters, "please tell Iron Man that I'd like to have a word with him. I'll be in the library." Tony didn't go there very often these days so it was unlikely they'd see him, but it was still public enough that Steve didn't feel he was sneaking around Tony's back. He still felt bad about the 'experiment' Captain America did with Iron Man. 

Steve was idly reading a magazine when he heard Iron Man enter the room. He looked up and smiled.

"Jarvis said you wanted to see me?" Iron Man sat down on one of the reinforced chairs and tilted his helmet to look at Steve.

"Yes. Colonel Rhodes came by to warn Tony that Ross has been snooping around the War Machine. He suspects the general is looking for weaknesses he can use against you, in order to get at Tony."

"I see. And you're concerned about me?"

"Of course I am! You're important to Tony and me, as a person, as a friend. I know Tony doesn't show it very well... and he's been pretty unreasonable about you prioritizing his rescue over Captain America's, but I'm sure you're the most important person in his life."

"I thought that was you?"

Steve spread his hands. "Yeah, sure. Besides me." Steve wasn't going to whine about his lack of a sex life to a man who hadn't anyone at all. Once Steve figured out the safety protocols, he'd have Tony again, at least as Captain America he would, and really, why should he feel bad that Tony was more attracted to Steve Rogers, Mark II, with all the flaws fixed?

"Don't worry. I can take anti-tank fire. Ross hasn't got anything that can damage me." Iron Man rose to his feet and tapped on his metal chest with one metal hand. "I'm unbreakable. Money back guarantee."

Steve watched Iron Man leave and wished he'd felt reassured.

***

Things were relatively quiet for a few weeks. Pepper showed up one day without warning, which surprised Steve. He hadn't seen her in over a month. When Jarvis told him who was at the door, he'd gone to greet her.

Pepper smiled and hugged him. "It's good to see you, Steve."

"It's been too long." Steve pulled away and looked at her, while holding her hands. "How have you been?" She looked a little tired, but otherwise as perfectly put together as always.

"Busy." She squeezed Steve's hands before releasing them. "Tony dumped the whole company in my lap, you know?"

"Yeah, he chortles about it sometimes," Steve said, teasingly.

"He would. Well, he's not going to duck out of ALL his responsibilities. He's the public face of S.I. and he hasn't been seen in too long. People are starting to talk."

"People always talk about Tony."

"Well, not like this. They're comparing him to Howard Hughes. Even the board is beginning to hint that they think he died, and I'm covering up."

"How can they think that?" Steve shook his head. "He's been turning over new designs to them nearly every week!"

"They're idiots," Tony said. He had come up from behind, wearing his work clothes, including soft-soled sneakers, which were of absolutely no protection, but Steve had given up arguing with Tony about workshop safety. Tony just said that OSHA was fine for factory workers, but he'd be comfortable in his own home, thanks. "Hey, Pep," Tony grinned at her. "How's my favorite C.E.O.?"

"Sweet talking isn't going to get you out of it, this time, Tony. I _need_ you to make a public appearance."

"I'm kinda busy, you know. What with keeping Iron Man ready for action." Tony rubbed at his chest.

Pepper's expression softened slightly. "I know. But Tony, this is important too. Captain America can take over if there's an emergency and Iron Man's not available, can't he? New York got along without either Iron Man or Captain America for a long time, it can certainly make do with one hero for a while."

"I guess." Tony sighed. "So, what, I put on a monkey suit and go smile at some benefit?"

"That's a start. I'm emailing you your itinerary for the next week. If you weasel out, you'd better have a note from your doctor, saying you've come down with plague."

Tony looked at Steve.

Steve said, "No. I'm not lying for you. Besides, I've never practiced medicine on anything larger than a rat."

"Expand your horizons?"

"Tony." Pepper took a deep breath. "You will attend these events, or I will throw you to the wolves."

Tony winced. "You wouldn't."

"I would. Press conference at the mansion. Wouldn't that be fun?"

Tony held up his hands. "Suddenly, I have an irresistible desire to mingle with the masses."

"Good." Pepper kissed Tony on the cheek. "I won't ask you not to do anything I wouldn't do, but please, Tony, remember that I don't have time to personally bail you out of jail these days. I'd send Mrs. Arbogast."

"You're no fun."


	31. Chapter 31

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gets a bit gory towards the end, but is kinda necessary.

"So, there's a thing," Tony said to Steve. "Tonight. Black tie, dining and dancing, sort of thing. I know it's short notice, but would you like to go with me? I promise not to get drunk and embarrassingly sloppy when we dance? Yes?"

Steve blinked. He'd been working when Tony asked to come into his lab, but it wasn't on the stimulant device, so he had told Jarvis to let Tony in, and not bothered to stop work. He was expecting ... well, he didn't know what he'd been expecting. The last couple of weeks Tony had shown up at random intervals, chatted, and then wandered off again, and he'd stopped trying to figure out what Tony was up to, if anything. For all he knew Tony had hit a snag on his latest project and just wanted a change of scene. "Um. What?"

"Yeah. I know this probably seems like it just came out of the blue, but really, I've been wanting to ask you, but most of the things Pepper had lined up really weren't a 'plus one' deal-- I mean, inspecting a new S.I. daycare learning center, ribbon cutting ceremony? Boring even for me and at least I got to play with the golden scissors, even though Pepper wouldn't let me run with them." Tony shut up and looked at Steve with big, hopeful eyes.

"I... I'm not sure, Tony." Steve sighed and ran his hand through his hair, ignoring the rubber gloves he was wearing. "If it's just that you want a 'safe' date, you know, someone who'll know not to..." He waved at Tony's chest. "Then... maybe you'd be better off hiring an escort and getting a clause in the contract."

Tony winced. "I deserve that, I know. I'll be honest here. Yes, I trust you not to make a move to send me into an embarrassing public panic. And there are a whole boatload of sincere, logical reasons why your presence would be good for my company image, but the real reason I want you with me is very simple. I just... want you with me."

Steve thought maybe he should say no. But then, Tony would feel bad, and Steve would feel bad, and heck, it wasn't as if Tony could invite Captain America. "Yeah, all right."

"Great!" Tony gave Steve a bright, honest smile, not one of the 'meet the public' grins he'd seen a lot of the last two weeks whenever he watched Tony's publicity tour. He only watched to make sure Tony was safe. Pepper had bodyguards all around, but still, he needed to see for himself. Iron Man couldn't be there because he was... Steve forgot how Pepper had explained it, but he took it to mean that Iron Man made people nervous.

***

Steve checked himself out in the mirror. His best tuxedo, the dark blue one Tony had once said matched his eyes, fit as well as ever. At least he wouldn't be embarrassing himself by his appearance. He straightened his bow tie one last time before heading for the front door. They were going to be chauffeured and while Tony never cared how long he made hired people wait for him, Steve considered punctuality the least a wealthy man owed to his employees. He was paying for their time, but not for them to put up with discourtesy. Tony got away with a lot, mainly by having a reputation for being eccentric, so people didn't expect any better from him, but... Steve told himself to stop thinking about all the reasons he had for being annoyed with Tony. It really didn't matter. He'd had his eyes wide open when he'd fallen in love with Tony, and he still loved him. Tony was just... Tony. There wasn't any getting around the fact that he was stupid in love with that ass... um... idiot. Yes. He paused in the hallway to lean his head against a mirror and murmur, "I am so screwed."

"What's that?"

Steve whirled at Tony's voice behind him, as he came from one of the lounges. Tony caught his arm to steady him. "Are you nervous? Don't be. You look fine. Actually, no, you look gorgeous."

Steve couldn't help it, he felt the blush rising hot in his cheeks. "Thanks," he muttered, pulling away to straighten his jacket sleeves. "You look... pretty good, too." Tony looked like he'd stepped out of a magazine ad for something outrageously expensive, cologne or cognac or possibly private jets. His tuxedo was a purple so dark it looked blacker than black, but gave off highlights of color that made the eye want to linger on the breadth of his shoulders, the arch of his spine... and Steve was not going to spoil the line of his suit with an erection. He hastily turned his thoughts to more neutral matters. "Shall we go?"

Tony nodded. "The bodyguards have gone on ahead." He made a face. "But they have orders not to get into any photos, so they'll stay at a distance."

"I don't mind them. But on the way..."

"You've met my new chauffeur, Natasha? Pepper found her... don't ask me where, or how. She's apparently a retired spy or assassin, or possibly just the world's greatest liar, but she looks great in an evening gown, and she took out half a dozen big men as part of her employee interview." Tony's eyes went distant. "Pepper recorded it."

"Why didn't you ask her to be your plus one, then?" Steve said, not feeling jealous of the admiration in Tony's voice, not in the slightest.

"She's Pepper's girlfriend. I have less than no interest in getting either of them angry at me."

***

The evening went well, better than Steve had expected. Tony paid attention to him, and kept his promise to drink lightly, and when they danced, for a while Steve forgot that he wasn't Captain America, wasn't the man Tony needed. For a while he was Tony's lover, and he fell back into their old roles. He always led, at first because he hadn't done much dancing and it was easier that way, and later because Tony said it looked better for the taller man to lead. He suspected Tony had another motive, but never did get him to confess that he liked having someone he could trust even in something as simple as guiding him on a dance floor. For all his social slickness, Tony was paranoid as all hell. Steve sometimes wondered whether he was born that way, or learned it from all the publicity he'd had surrounding him from his first media exposure as a child.

But when he was dancing with Tony, he didn't think too much about anything except how warm Tony was, how the small of his back seemed meant for Steve's hand, how his eyes caught the light of the chandeliers with glints of amber and russet lightening them as he smiled up at Steve, how good that coconut and copper scent smelled, how much he missed the scratch of Tony's goatee when they kissed. Maybe he could keep this much, the dancing, not the kissing, after Captain America became Tony's lover. 

They were down to the shank of the evening when Steve's phone vibrated. It was a Stark phone and so slender that it didn't spoil the line of his jacket so he'd opted to keep it. From the way Tony tensed at the same moment, he'd done the same thing.

Tony looked at Steve. "You, too?"

"Yeah." Steve guided Tony toward one of the alcoves conveniently set around the sides of the ballroom, presumably for private conversations of a romantic nature. "I have Jarvis phone me if something is likely to need Captain America. I like to know..."

Tony nodded. "Iron Man for me." They reached the alcove and checked their phones. Jarvis had sent them video. Tony winced. "Not good."

Understatement of the year. Smith had got a new gang together, and they were using futuristic looking weapons to blast holes out of people and buildings and pretty much all of downtown Manhattan, not far from the ballroom. Steve thought furiously. Captain America had to get there. Iron Man wasn't in sight- maybe he was down for maintenance. Anyway, Smith was Steve's responsibility. He had to ditch Tony and get to somewhere he could peel off his tux. Thank heaven Tony had reduced the thickness of the Captain America uniform so he could wear it under his clothes and thank his mother for instilling the virtue of always being prepared that made him wear it every time he left the mansion. "Tony... I think... I'm going to be sick," he said, looking at the mayhem. "You go back to the mansion without me, help Iron Man." And then he bolted for the men's room, praying that Tony would be sensible for once.

Tony shouted something, but Steve didn't pause. There was no time to worry about hurt feelings. People were being killed.

***

Captain America was too busy protecting 'civilians' to get to Smith. Where did he get all these homicidal maniacs? Luckily Iron Man had showed up soon after Steve arrived at the scene, having borrowed a motorcycle from one of the parking valets. He'd promised the woman she'd either get it back in good condition, or enough money to buy a new one. He was glad she'd agreed, because he would have taken it anyway. It was going to have to be option two because one of the tattooed minions had blasted the 'bike to slag within seconds of Steve's arrival. He'd jumped clear in time, and immediately begun fighting, handicapped by the lack of his shield, but there were a lot of manhole covers around, which were better than nothing.

Iron Man swooped in and took out a minion who'd been aiming one of their weird guns at Steve. "Hey, Cap, where's your frisbee?" he said as he turned to blast a few more.

"Dang," Captain America said as he smashed a minion in the gut with the edge of a manhole cover. "I knew I was forgetting something!"

Iron Man laughed. "First sign of ..." and then he fell to the roadway, crumpled like a broken toy, silent and with all his lights gone dark.

"HAH!" Smith gloated, waving a weird looking gun in Iron Man's direction. "Ross was right! And now I'll take care of you!" 

Steve, Captain America, no, Steve, looked up from Iron Man's still shape at the sneering, twisted scarlet face of hate approaching him. He didn't think, just acted. His arm came up and he threw the manhole cover. There was a horrible cracking, squelching noise, and then a geyser of blood fountain-arching from Smith's headless torso. Steve picked up one of the weapons from a fallen minion and spoke into the sudden silence. "He's dead. Do you want to join him?" Three of the minions charged, and Steve shot them down without hesitation. "I bet he told you I wouldn't kill. I bet he also told you he couldn't die. Do you want to die for his lies?" He didn't recognize his voice at all, it was cold and hungry, as if he hoped they'd all come at him. He knelt at Iron Man's side, keeping the gun up while he waited for their decision.

"Fuck this," one of the minions said. "I don't follow a fucking loser." He turned and ran off. A moment later the rest of them had fled. People were screaming and sobbing and shouting. Sirens were blaring. Out of the corner of his eye, Steve saw people moving, but they weren't a threat. He put the gun down and felt along the edges of Iron Man's helmet. It had to come off, there had to be something he could do. His fingers found a catch that moved, and then the faceplate came up. He was reaching in to the edge, trying to get at the throat to feel for a pulse when it came to him what, who he was looking at. Lying there, unconscious, barely breathing, pulse with that same not quite right rhythm. "Tony?" he whispered. Tony's goatee scratched at his fingers as the erratic pulse beat against them. The light in Iron Man's chest came back on, flickered, and crackled, and fitfully flickered before it held steady.


	32. Chapter 32

Tony made a small noise, the start of regaining consciousness. Steve snapped the faceplate down instinctively, only realizing after he'd done it. He wasn't ready to talk to Tony. This... this just totally threw him off balance. How could it even be? He'd seen Tony and Iron Man together.

Iron Man... Tony... groaned and moved his arms. "What...What hit me?"

"I don't know. Smith had a gun. He said 'Ross was right'."

"Well... that's not good." Iron Man got to his feet.

"Are you all right? You were down for the count."

"Oh, yeah, I'm fine." Iron Man turned around, looking at the debris and the people in assorted stages of damage. "Where's Smith? Did he get away with that gun? I need it."

"No. He didn't get away." Captain America walked over to Smith's corpse, and pried the weapon out of his hands. "Here it is." The weapon had blood all over it. It felt like it was going to slip out of his grasp.

"Jesus. What happened to Smith? That was Smith, wasn't it?"

"I thought you were dead. I... lost my temper."

"Huh." The sound of approaching sirens grew suddenly louder. "How about we get out of here and explain things to the authorities later?" Iron Man held out his hands.

After a moment Steve nodded, and shifted the weapon into the crook of one arm. "Yeah, Mr. Stark owes me a steak dinner."

"Um. If you say so." Iron Man adjusted Steve against his side, and then took off.

***

Steve paced in his quarters, trying to figure this out. Now, Tony was a genius, all right, but that didn't explain how he could be in two places at once. Even if human cloning wasn't a long way from being possible, there was no way to speed up the maturation process. Anyway, biology wasn't Tony's field, machines ... oh. An android? No, that was Tony in the suit, today, he didn't... now that Steve thought of it, whenever Tony and Iron Man were together, Iron Man was either silent, or he was very direct, like... Jarvis? Yeah, Tony _would_ do that, make Jarvis fill in for him. He should have Jarvis operate the suit all the time, why should he risk his life when a copy of Jarvis could do the job?

Because Tony wanted to be a hero? Yeah. He came back from Afghanistan changed, all right. He felt he had to make amends, and just giving to charity and halting weapons production at S.I. wasn't enough. No, Tony was an all or nothing guy. So... he was trying to save the world personally. 

But one thing Steve knew about Tony was that he didn't directly lie, not if he could mislead or avoid answering entirely. So the stories about Iron Man being maimed and needing the suit as life support. That was Tony. His chest. The light that went out today, when Tony passed out. That's what was keeping him alive, and that's what was hidden under his layers of shirts. Steve suddenly realized that Rhodey had to know- he'd been there when they found Tony in Afghanistan, and Pepper she knew, too... all the little things started to add up. How had Steve missed it? 

Tony hadn't trusted him, and that hurt.

He told himself that fair was fair, after all he hadn't told Tony about Captain America. But that was different! Tony had been through a lot, ending up with a permanent handicap at the same time Steve had been miraculously cured of all his health problems and developed a bodybuilder alter-ego. He'd kept his silence because he didn't want to make things all about him, like someone listening to you talk about a death in the family and saying 'oh, my pet died, I know how you feel'. He wanted to support Tony, not... oh. He didn't want Tony to feel that their positions had been reversed, that Steve was now healthy and Tony was the one whose physical limitations directed their lovemaking.

Maybe that was at least part of the problem and why Tony was easier with Captain America being close. Steve had known Tony while he was healthy, but Captain America hadn't any history with him. Maybe. Maybe a fresh start was what Tony wanted, with someone who didn't know him before.

Cap should step up his game. He'd been professional and respectful of Tony, treating him as Iron Man's mentor. He should... this was going to be difficult. Steve had never actually tried to seduce anyone. Well, he had one big advantage. He knew what Tony liked. Start with that.

***

Captain America knocked on the door to Tony's workshop. The Iron Man armor was in a hoist, and Tony was half inside it, working away. He was tousled and greasy, and the muscles flexed in his arms as he moved. The Captain didn't mind at all watching and waiting while Tony finished whatever he was doing before he turned to look up at him. "Oh, hi Cap. C'mon in."

He opened the door and went over to Tony. "How is it going? Did you find out what that gun did to Iron Man?"

Tony shrugged. "Partly. It's an EMP field generator, but I thought I had shielded against that." Tony frowned and prodded at a dangling wire. "I can't very well encase the suit in a Faraday cage or multiple layers of EMP bags-- god, Iron Man would look like the Michelin Man--, but I had shielded what I thought were all the vulnerable areas. Obviously I missed something."

"You're tired. Why don't you take a break and come back later, with a clear head?"

"My head is perfectly clear, thank you." Tony turned his back on Captain America.

Captain America rested his hands lightly on Tony's shoulders. "You're tense," he said. "Why don't you let me give you a massage?"

Tony squirmed around and looked up at Captain America. "What?"

"I have very strong hands." He smiled. "I bet I can work out those stiff muscles."

Tony blinked. "Um. Thanks, but no, really I'm fine."

Steve backed away. "All right, but any time, you know, I don't mind. And I'm really good."

"Yeah. I bet you are." Tony watched Captain America all the way to the door.

***

Well, _that_ hadn't worked.Captain America was a little limited... he couldn't invite Tony to a car race, or a concert or take him to dinner or dancing... well... maybe he could come up with an excuse for dancing in the mansion... but that would take some planning. Maybe a movie? A nice romantic movie they could watch on the couch in the living room? Yeah, that was a plan.

***

He waited as Steve a few hours before he set up the movie and Capped Up. Well, waited as in, 'read dozens of movie synopsis and reviews' before settling on a nice romantic movie with sex and some angst and maybe the potential for sympathetic sniffling. Tony usually chose action or adventure movies and talked all through them about technical flaws with ballistics or physics, which actually was fun, but not conducive to Captain America's plans for the evening. This movie would give Tony the right idea.

"You've been in here all day," Captain America said as he came down the steps to the workshop and opened the door with one hand. His other hand held a platter containing a glass of Harp lager, a corned beef sandwich and a huge kosher dill pickle. "You must be starving."

"Hmm?" Tony glanced up from whatever he was typing on his hieroglyphic keyboard. "Oh."

Captain America put the platter down at a nearby table. "I'm going to watch a movie in the living room. I'd like it if you'd join me. We could watch and talk... about... stuff."

Tony's eyebrows did a weird dance. He looked at the food and then at Captain America. "Is there something wrong? I mean... don't you usually talk about... stuff... with Steve?"

"Mr. Rogers is busy." Captain America sighed. "Iron Man seems to be busy, too."

"Um. Yeah. I see. Ok." Tony looked longingly at the keyboard, then over at the platter of food. His stomach chose that moment to rumble. "Fine." He went over to the platter and took a bite out of the pickle. "Jarvis, save everything, and shut up shop for the night."

***

Tony rolled his eyes when the title sequence began. "Brokeback Mountain? You're kidding." But he didn't get up.

"Eat."

Tony shrugged and munched on his sandwich as Jarvis lowered the lights in the room to make it more like a theater experience. Captain America got caught up in the film. He was right, Tony was quiet; he must be thinking about why Captain America had chosen it. It couldn't be much more of a clue that he was interested in gay sex. He stretched and casually put his arm around Tony's shoulder. Tony didn't shrug him off. Instead he leaned closer.

"Tony?" he whispered. "I really like you, you know that?"

Tony snored.

Captain America sighed and patted Tony on the shoulder. He whispered along with the character in the movie, "You know friend, this is a god damn bitch of an unsatisfactory situation."


	33. Chapter 33

Captain America was seriously considering carrying Tony to bed by the time the end credits rolled, but he was saved from making the decision when Tony shifted in his sleep and his head slid off Cap's shoulder, waking him up. "Wha..." Tony looked around blearily, finally focusing on the star on Captain America's uniform a few inches in front of his nose. "You're a good guy, Cap," he mumbled, obviously still mostly asleep. He patted the star. "Good." He shook his head and blinked, then he yawned and sat up straight, stretching and arching his back. "Um, good movie."

Steve resisted the impulse to touch Tony's hair, but it wasn't easy. Tousled and sleepy-eyed, sleep-softened with a warm pink patch on his cheek where it had rested against Cap's shoulder, Tony was like the world's best teddy bear and the urge to cuddle him was ridiculously strong. "You didn't see a minute of it."

"No, but it put me to sleep and I had a great dream." Tony's barriers were still down and his mouth was on automatic.

"What was it about?"

"Flying cars. And ice cream. Raspberry ripple, we were eating it with chopsticks." Tony yawned again.

"We? I was in your dream?"

"Um. No, I don't think so. Just... me and someone. I couldn't see his face." Tony got up. "I'm going to see if there's any ice cream. Then I'm going back to the shop. Thanks for the movie-nap. It was good." Tony gave Captain America a vague wave, and then walked out of the room.

Captain America let his head thump back against the couch.

***

Ok, Steve was running out of ideas. He considered star-watching in the mansion garden, but vetoed that on the grounds that _if_ he could get Tony involved at all, he'd probably get side-tracked into talking about space and satellite communications and the possibility of making Iron Man able to operate in a vacuum.

He brought the chess set from the library into the workshop. Tony looked up at him with a puzzled expression. "What?" Tony had asked.

Captain America said, "How about a game of chess?"

"I.... yeah, all right." Tony moved over to one of the cleared work tables and watched as Captain America set up the men. "You take white and the first move."

Captain America sat down, and made his move. Tony sat across from him and responded immediately. 

"I like chess," Steve said, "because you get to know how your opponent thinks." He moved a piece.

"Um hmm," Tony said, making his move without hesitation.

Steve smiled and tried to talk to Tony while they played. A couple moves later, Tony tipped over Captain America's queen. "Check and mate." He got up.

Steve looked at the board. "That... what?"

"Yeah. I used to play a lot." Tony shrugged. "Speed chess. Multiple boards. Three-D. Blindfold three-D multiple opponents. Good practice for visualizing complex systems." He wandered back to his keyboard. "Gotta get back to work."

"Oh." Tony had never played like that with Steve. Granted, Steve didn't usually _win_ , but they used to play for hours, laughing and teasing each other. So Tony had been holding back, and he didn't feel the need to coddle Captain America. All right.

***

A picnic! That would be good. He could get all of Tony's favorites and they'd talk and relax. Or better yet, a barbecue. Tony had a fascination with explosions that trickled down to enjoying a fire. He had a fireplace in his Malibu mansion which was totally useless as a room heater, but he just liked it. And while Steve wasn't a great cook, he could roast corn and kabobs and ribs with the best of them. A bit of char only made it better.

Captain America set up the grill and got the coals going good while he arranged the rest of the supplies in the kitchen and brought them out to the picnic table. He looked it all over in satisfaction. All that was missing was Tony.

He went back to the workshop. This time Tony saw him before he knocked. "What's up, Cap?" 

"Barbecue," Steve blurted, unnerved by the calculation in Tony's stare. And the fact that his hands were totally still. Tony was always doing something with his hands, except when he was thinking too hard. "I just... made us a barbecue. In the garden." Even to himself he sounded like a kid confessing to having drawn on the walls.

"Barbecue," Tony said. "Why are you suddenly so concerned that I eat? So concerned about my physical well-being in general... I mean, massages? Making me watch a movie designed to put me to sleep? Since when are you my mother?"

"I'm not mothering you! That's the last thing I want to do, Tony! I just...want us to be friends." More than friends, but grabbing Tony and kissing him without his consent would be... wrong... so very wrong. No matter how much he wanted to do it.

"Friends. Jesus, are you that lonely?"

"I... I suppose I am."

Tony shook his head. "You're probably the most admired man in America and you feel the need to bribe me with food to spend time in your company?"

"Well, you're always busy."

"I admire the hell out of you, don't you know that?"

"You do?" Captain America smiled. Maybe this would work out.

"Yeah." Tony went to Cap and slapped him on the arm. "Lets go have barbecue."

***

Half an hour later Tony was playing Yahtzee with Steve while they waited for the kabobs and corn and ribs to settle. "You're a good cook, Cap. I'll have to return the favor some time, but I warn you, grilled cheese on rye is probably what you'll get."

Relaxed and full, Captain America said, teasingly, "Oh, no, you owe me a steak dinner."

Tony dropped the dice and looked at Cap. "Say that again."

"I was only joking."

"Say that again." 

"Well, you know, you promised that if Ross..." Captain America realized his mistake too late.

Tony got to his feet so fast the bench he was sitting on overturned. "I said that to Rhodey and Steve."

"Mr. Rogers..."

"No. Even if Steve told you what I'd said, I'd promised _him_ , not Captain America!"


	34. Chapter 34

"You promised _me_!" Steve had enough. He pulled back his hooded mask. He could see the moment Tony recognized him, saw _Steve_ under the extra bone and muscle.

"What kind of game is this, Steve?"

"It's not a game, Tony. You had your own problems, I didn't need to add mine. And then, you kept distancing yourself. I thought... maybe Steve Rogers wasn't what you needed any longer. Maybe Captain America could stand by your side."

"How could you possibly think that Steve Rogers isn't enough for anyone? He's the strongest, bravest, sexiest man I've ever met! How can you possibly think that I'd dump him because someone else had bigger muscles and pranced around in a flag!"

"Then why were you avoiding me when I was Steve!"

"Because I'm fucked up! I always was, but if Steve knew how bad it was now, he'd feel he had to do the noble thing. I was too selfish to send him away, but not selfish enough to make him stay with me out of pity! Not since..."

"Since you became Iron Man? Since you made yourself a hero?"

"What?" Tony said weakly.

"I don't pity you, Tony." Steve threw his cowl on the table and called up theta, letting himself shift back for once in the sunlight in front of someone else. He felt the uniform drag at him as he shrank. "It's not the costume that makes the hero. Not the Kevlar or the gold-titanium. It's the man who gets into the costume and puts himself on the line, because it's the right thing to do, no matter how much it hurts, or what it costs. That's what makes a hero like Iron Man. That's what makes Tony Stark my hero."

Tony's eyes were full of wonder. He reached his hand out to touch Steve's face. He said, softly, "See, you _are_ the bravest man I've ever met."

"The only thing I'm afraid of is losing you, Tony." Steve put his hand over Tony's. "I'm going to kiss you now."

"Yeah. Lets..."

Steve pulled Tony right over the picnic table, sending corn cobs and rib bones scattering. Tony made a single "mmmph" of involuntary protest and then Tony was kneeling on the table. Steve kicked the other bench out of the way so he could put his arms around Tony and hold him so tight he could barely breathe. But then he wasn't breathing, he was kissing Tony, hot and damp and tasting like buttered corn and spicy ribs and that hint of copper and coconut. Like Tony, complicated and unexpected and somehow exactly what Steve had always wanted.

"Wait, wait." Tony pulled back, breathing heavily. He pulled his triple layering of shirts up, peeling them off one at a time. "You should see what you're getting." He dropped the last shirt to the ground and waited for Steve's reaction.

Steve gazed at the glowing, glass and metal, thing in the center of Tony's chest. "That's it?"

"Uh huh." Tony tapped on it. "Miniaturized arc reactor. Keeps shrapnel out of my heart, and makes me the world's first lover with a built-in night-light."

Steve let his medical side come to the fore as he lightly traced the outlines of the reactor with his fingers. "This is why you had to invent a new element?"

"Yeah."

Steve looked Tony directly in the eyes. "Later you're going to tell me all about it." Tony grimaced. "I'm not squeamish, Tony, and I need to know." He smiled as he remembered how they began. "This is new for me. What are the problem areas? I mean, obviously, you're the expert here, so teach me." 

Tony laughed. "Yeah, I'll teach you." He leaned his forehead against Steve's. "I can't believe we've been dancing around each other like this for so long."

"I love you," Steve said. "I'd wait as long as it took."

Tony kissed Steve, slow and thoroughly, and he didn't pull back when Steve slipped his hand up to stroke the smoothness of the reactor. "I love you, Steve, but my knees are killing me."

Steve laughed. "I think Captain America has the biggest bed." He held Tony's hand to steady him as he climbed down from the table.

"Yeah, I've seen it." Tony shook his head. "We're not going to discuss that night..." Tony made a vague gesture with his free hand. "You know, with Iron Man and Captain America..."

"The night of the free passes?" Steve said. "No, we're not going to talk about it. But, just so you know, we both used them up. Even if Captain America's your irresistible fantasy."

"Well, yeah, but you're the real thing, Steve. And you're so much hotter than Cap."

Steve rolled his eyes. "You don't have to flatter me, Tony."

"Maybe I do. You're so stubborn, Steve. You've made up your mind that you're unattractive and the only reason anyone could like you is because of your personality. Don't get me wrong, I love your personality. But this..." Tony ran his hand under the loose-fitting neckline of the Captain America shirt to caress Steve's collarbone. "god, how can you not _see_ how hot you are? Even if you were an idiot, I'd still have tried to get you in bed, but you're not... you're smart and you're... just... really a great guy. Someone I'd like to wake up next to for the rest of my life."

Steve stared at Tony. "Did you just propose to me?"

"Um. Yes? Unless you don't want me to, in which case, no."

"Oh, no, you don't get to take it back!" Steve was grinning so hard his jaw hurt. "Yes, Tony, I say 'yes'." They kissed again, but Steve backed up and nearly tripped in his oversize boots. Tony held tight and they stayed upright.

"Bed," Tony said. "I need to defile you before the wedding." He tugged and they started walking toward the mansion.

"What if I need to defile you?" Steve asked. He didn't care if any of the servants saw him draped in Captain America's costume. Right now he didn't care if the whole world saw him, walking with his arm around Tony's waist. Since Tony hadn't bothered to put on a shirt, he was fairly sure Tony didn't care if anyone saw the arc reactor, either.

"How about a mutual defilement pact?"

"I could meet you in the middle on that."

***

Captain America's bed was a bespoke [ Vividus](http://www.hastens.com/en-us/THE-COLLECTION/Vividus/), made by a Swedish company in a size so far beyond King that Tony said the manufacturer had dubbed it the Emperor. During the reconstruction, a wall had been taken out to get it in. Steve had never slept on it. 

Halfway into the room, Tony started working on getting the Captain America uniform off Steve. "I'm so glad I know where all the fastenings are," he commented as the chest flap opened and he leaned in to suck a line of pink marks down to a nipple.

Steve was already breathing hard and all he was doing was petting Tony's hair, and holding onto his shoulders. "You always know where all my buttons are." He still wasn't, deep down, sure that this was happening. Well, yes, it was happening, but was Tony just caught up in the moment? Not that he was going to stop. It felt too good. He hadn't had a nipple kink until Tony taught him to love it.

"I love your buttons." Tony licked around Steve's right nipple, then sucked on it.

Steve moaned and pulled on Tony's hair while kicking off his boots. The trousers slid down with a thump, utility belt pouches opening to scatter packets of food across the creamy white carpet. "It's been so long, Tony. Don't think I'll last."

Tony released his nipple with one last graze of teeth over the sensitized tissue. "I'm not going anywhere, don't worry about it." And then Tony went to his knees and took Steve's cock in his mouth. Steve grabbed Tony's shoulders to steady himself and looked down past Tony's artfully tousled hair (Tony was ridiculously vain about his hair). The arc reactor's blue light made the once familiar sight new and exotic, while Tony hadn't lost any of his skill. Engineer's hands and a hedonist's mouth. Tony's oral fixation wasn't just for food.

Steve tried not to thrust, but Tony reached around to dig his fingers into Steve's butt, and his hips moved on their own, driving him deep into that hot, tight, welcoming warmth. "Ahh, Tony. Yes. Please." It didn't matter what he said, anything except 'no', and Tony was going to suck him until he exploded, he knew that. So he said whatever he felt like saying, "Fuck. Tony, you made me wait so long. You drive me crazy. Love you. More! Come on, take me. All the way. You can do it," he kept talking, a constant flow of all the pent-up frustration of months of watching Tony and trying and trying and trying, so hard. "I'm so hard. Need you. Please!"

It was all hot and push and move and tight, muscles hot and tight and push and now, now, now, and the wet, sloppy noises, and Steve was talking, babbling, like Tony when he's drunk, he was drunk on Tony, and he didn't care about anything but this, yes, please! And then it was there, and he jerked and came and held onto Tony so hard, so tight, so don't leave me, don't let go. After a while he realized his legs were trembling, and his hands were clenched so tight in Tony's hair that it had to be painful. And he really, really wanted to sleep. But not yet. He drew a deep breath, and relaxed his fingers to let Tony pull away.

Tony looked up at him, grinning brightly. His face was flushed and his eyes were gleeful. "That was so incredibly hot," Tony said, and then he licked his lips. "I'd really, really like to fuck you now, Steve."

Steve couldn't help it; he laughed. "Romance isn't dead, its name is Tony Stark."

"I can be very romantic. Later."

Judging by the tenting in Tony's pants, Steve could understand his urgency. "We don't have any supplies."

"Of course we do! Didn't you ever look in the bedside table? Any of the bedside tables?"

"Um, no, the lotion in the bath was always enough for me."

Tony rolled his eyes. "Your fiancé is a billionaire, and you make do with Jergen's lotion. I need to spoil you, Steve."

"No, you don't." Steve kicked out of the trousers puddled around his feet and knelt to kiss Tony. "I don't have asthma any more."

"That's... that's not what I meant, but that's good. So is there something you wanted to do that we couldn't before?" Tony looked as eager as if he was starting a new experiment. In a way, Steve thought that was true.

"Yeah. I want to see you when we make love. I want your hands on my chest. I want to feel your weight on me." Steve stood up, taking Tony with him. "That's what I want."

Tony smiled. "Oh, yeah, totally doable. Do you wanna get yourself ready? I'm afraid I haven't got that much self-control left."

"Sure." Steve went to the bedside table and pulled out the drawer. It wasn't outrageously stocked with paraphernalia, but there was an assortment of all the basics. He looked over his shoulder as he selected lube and a slender dildo. Tony was watching him. "You have to get your trousers off, genius."

"I knew that!" Tony said and he unzipped his pants.

"Shoes first!"

"God, you're such a nag." Tony sat down on the edge of the bed, a good fifteen feet away, to take off his shoes. "Are you going to let me wear the pants in the family?"

"As seldom as possible," Steve said while lubing the dildo and bending over to look at Tony through his legs. He had never been so grateful to the serum as at this moment, watching Tony's mouth fall open. He set the dildo against his hole and pressed in slowly, relaxing and enjoying the sensation.

Tony made a soft, whining noise. "You're killing me here, Steve."

"You're still dressed," Steve noted as he pushed the dildo in further.

Tony stood up and worked his trousers off over his erection. "Now I'm not."

Steve smiled. "I knew you just needed a little incentive." He switched to a thicker dildo, adding more lube and making a show of working it into his ass. 

Tony's eyes were nearly black with arousal. He got up and walked to Steve, his erection bobbing and swaying with each step. It should have looked ridiculous, Steve thought. But it really, really didn't. He was beginning to get excited again. 

By the time Steve had graduated to Tony-size, his own erection had happily returned. He lay down on his back, and wriggled over to something closer to the middle of the bed. He barely got settled before Tony followed him.

"Kiss me?" Steve asked softly.

"Love to." Tony sprawled out on top of Steve, gingerly at first, as if testing that the weight really didn't bother him, and then he began kissing, slow and sweet at first, but within a few minutes it was hot and hungry and they were rubbing against each other. Steve finally put his hands on Tony's chest, the thumbs sliding across the arc reactor, to get his attention. "Fuck me?" 

Tony lifted his head and went totally still for a moment. "No. I'm going to make love to you."

"Later!" Steve spread his legs and raised his knees. "I changed my mind. Romance later. Fuck me now!"

"All right!" Tony backed up, and grabbed a pillow. "Lift up!" When Steve wrapped his legs around Tony's waist and levered his ass up off the bed, Tony shoved a pillow under. "Good?"

"I'm good. Tony, I am so good."

Tony grinned, hair and eyes wild, with blue highlights from the reactor along his chest and belly shining along his sweat-slick skin. "Love you," he said and then he pushed in.

Steve made an undignified noise and tightened his legs around Tony. "Yeah. Don't... Don't hold back. Fuck me. Fuck me hard, Tony."

Tony moaned and got to work. "Fuck, Steve, oh, yeah. You're so good." 

Steve grabbed Tony's arms and hung on. Tony had always had a boxer's build, but now the corded muscle was even harder, more defined. He pulled Tony's hands up to his chest. "On me. Feel you."

"Yes." Tony shifted so more of his weight was on Steve's chest. "You're so strong. You always were."

"Shut up and fuck me, Tony." Steve arched up to rub his cock against Tony. "Harder!"

Tony lowered his head and grunted with the effort he put into his thrusts. 

It hurt a little, and Steve loved it. It was fast and furious, and Steve may have said some incredibly filthy things when he came a few minutes later, right after Tony yelled his name and collapsed on top of him. Steve sighed and let his legs fall apart. Tony was still on top of him, hot and heavy, and the arc reactor an unfamiliar pressure he felt with each breath he took. He patted Tony on the back, and considered pushing Tony off, but then he changed his mind. He could breathe. He was strong. He could support Tony. He could support Tony forever.

He closed his eyes and fell asleep smiling. In the morning they'd talk, about Ross, and about the arc reactor, about being superheroes... maybe even about their wedding. But for now, he had what he'd been fighting for, and he was just going to hold on and enjoy the fruits of victory.

**Author's Note:**

> Based on [ this LJ Avengerkink prompt:](http://avengerkink.livejournal.com/6565.html?thread=12054949#t12054949)
> 
> Tony Stark and Steve Rogers are fellow business owners who meet at some corporate fundraiser or something or other. (I don't really care what sort of business Steve runs as long as it's a fortune 500, so he's an equal with Tony) Captain America (Steve basically 'hulks out' willingly into Cap) and Iron Man are fellow super heroes who fight together. 
> 
> They don't know each other's true identities. But both Tony/Iron Man and Steve/Cap like each other, and are torn as to who they like more. Eventually, Steve finds out that Tony Stark=Iron Man and decides to approach him as Cap, only to get turned down because Tony Stark is in love with Steve Rogers.


End file.
